


Taking Chances

by bortzy, StarlingHawke (Bowm8935)



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Casual Sex, Denial of Feelings, Dubcon Kissing, First Kiss, Flashbacks, Friends With Benefits, Hand Jobs, M/M, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2018-11-03 08:44:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 95,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10963719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bortzy/pseuds/bortzy, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bowm8935/pseuds/StarlingHawke
Summary: Yoosung wants to be a friend to Saeran. Turns out Saeran has a very different idea of what 'friendship' entails.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Collab collab collab!!  
> This chapter is by me ([Ely](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Ely)), and I'll be writing all the Yoosung chapters. The Saeran chapters are by [StarlingHawke](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Bowm8935/pseuds/StarlingHawke).

**Yoosung**

 

Yoosung feels like it’s been far too long since he’s hung out with Seven. He knows he’s been preoccupied with trying to help his brother adjust after being reunited with him, and even though Yoosung completely understands why that’s way more important than movie nights and hours and hours of gaming together, it doesn’t stop it from sucking.

Luckily, Saeran seems to be getting better. As far as Yoosung knows he’s still not allowed outside by himself, but it seems as though Seven doesn’t need to watch him quite so closely anymore, which means they can hang out more regularly.

They’re currently having a movie night, and this movie is… bad. _Really_ bad. Seven claims it’s one of his all-time favourites, and while Yoosung was somewhat sceptical when he heard the title of said movie was ‘Executive Infant’, he now knows that he’s joking. He _has_ to be. It’s difficult to even make fun of because it’s just _that_ awful.

“Why are we watching this?” Yoosung whines. “This is so bad.”

“You’re just jealous of Executive Infant and how smart and talented he is,” Seven says stubbornly, and Yoosung rolls his eyes.

“The baby doesn’t even have a name. Why is he…? I don’t even know what’s going _on_ in this. It makes no sense.”

Seven huffs. He can’t _actually_ like this movie, can he? Seven’s not picky with movies, but even he must know this is terrible. Yoosung glances at him and sees a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Of course he’s joking. What an ass. Yoosung picks up a cushion from the couch and starts hitting him with it.

“Hey! Stop!” Seven bursts into laughter, covering his face with his hands to try and protect himself.

“You. Are. Such. A. Jerk!” Yoosung laughs, punctuating each word with a hit of the cushion.

“Help! I’m being attacked!” Seven cries out. He grabs hold of the cushion and Yoosung struggles to pull it back for a moment so he can keep hitting him. He realises it’s not worth it after a little while and lets go, poking Seven hard in his belly and then folding his arms and trying to look grumpy despite the fact he’s still giggling. “I hate you.”

“Love you too, babe.”

Seven tosses the cushion at Yoosung, who manages to catch it. He hugs it against his chest and turns back to the movie. It’s almost painful to watch. Eventually, it seems like even Seven can’t take it anymore.

“Guess who I saw the other day,” he says. Yoosung turns to him, thankful for the distraction.

“Who?”

“Guess!”

“Ugh, I don’t know. Zen?”

“Nope.”

“Is it someone I know?”

“Nope.”

“Then how am I supposed to guess?!” Yoosung exclaims. “Just tell me!”

“Okay, fine. It was…” Seven trails off and leans closer, voice dropping to a whisper. “You.”

Yoosung blinks in confusion. “Me?” He hasn’t seen Seven in over a week.

“Well… maybe. Maybe it was your doppelganger.”

“Huh. You should’ve said hi. I didn’t see you.”

“No, Yoosung,” Seven says, leaning in closer, whispering even more quietly. “It _was_ your doppelganger.”

Yoosung narrows his eyes. “What?”

“Have you heard the theory?” Seven asks, leaning back and speaking way too casually. “About doppelgangers, I mean. Everyone in the world has seven.”

Yoosung stares at him for a moment, and then he huffs and turns away. “You’re making fun of me.”

“No! It’s true, I swear,” Seven insists. “I just thought I’d warn you. It’s probably best you don’t go outside again until yours is gone.”

“What? Why?”

“Seeing him shouldn’t be too bad,” Seven mumbles, as though talking to himself. “It might just rip a small hole, but that can be fixed. Touching is what makes bad things happen.”

“Bad things?” Yoosung asks in confusion. Wait. No. This is a prank. He looks back at the screen to divert his attention, and cringes when he remembers what they’re watching.

“Seeing your doppelganger will cause a tear in the space-time continuum, but it’ll only be minor and should fix itself. If you touch him, even just for a second… well…” Seven gulps nervously.

Yoosung turns back to Seven. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not! It’s true, I swear.” Seven pulls his phone out his pocket and quickly taps in something. “Look, even Noogle says so.”

Yoosung squints at the screen. He’s searched ‘seven people who look like you’, and… there are a lot of hits. Some look like articles, even. Yoosung raises his eyebrows in surprise.

“This is real?” he asks in disbelief. He reaches out and scrolls down the results page. They look like they come from a variety of different places. So it’s true? “But… but what will happen if I touch him?”

Seven slowly lowers his phone and looks away, a nervous look on his face. “The world will explode.”

“What?!”

“Okay, I lied. The entire universe will explode. Everyone will die.”

“That’s… no. That’s not true,” Yoosung says a little desperately. Seven raises his eyebrows at him.

“Do you _really_ want to test it and find out?” Seven challenges. “Your DNA is too similar. There’s a complicated science behind it, and if you get too close it could cause a reaction which will rip a hole in the fabric of the universe. Just seeing him might not be too awful, but touching him…” Seven shudders. “I don’t even want to _think_ about how awful that would be.”

“I… well, what am I supposed to do?!” Yoosung asks urgently.

“You should stay inside as much as you possibly can. You don’t want to touch him accidentally. I don’t think he lives around here, so you should be fine after he’s gone,” Seven explains, Yoosung nods, head spinning. He might have to miss a few classes, but that’s not important if there’s a risk of killing everyone.

“He’s lying.”

Both Yoosung and Seven spin around at the voice that comes from behind them. Yoosung blinks in surprise. It’s Saeran. Yoosung’s only met Saeran a few times before, but his appearance always makes him feel odd. His white hair and green eyes are… not unsettling. That’s not the right word. Striking? Maybe. He just looks and acts very differently to Seven, and Yoosung had always been under the impression that identical twins were supposed to be… well, identical.

“He is?” Yoosung asks. Saeran nods and hums in confirmation, putting a spoonful of ice cream in his mouth.

“No, I’m not!” Seven insists. Saeran rolls his eyes and swallows, pulling the spoon from his mouth before speaking.

“You are. The universe isn’t going to explode just because you touch someone who looks like you. We’re identical twins,” he points out, reaching out and poking Seven roughly in the head. “There. The universe is fine.”

Yoosung feels stupid for believing it when he says it like that. Seven grins.

“Okay, you caught me.”

“Also, what the fuck are you watching?” Saeran points the spoon towards the screen where Executive Infant and his older brother, Tom, are… pirates? Who the hell even knows what’s going on anymore?

“I don’t know,” Yoosung admits. “ _Apparently_ it’s your brother’s favourite movie.”

“Don’t gang up against me. It’s not my fault I can appreciate _art_ ,” Seven says defensively, but he’s still grinning.

“This isn’t _art_ ,” Saeran shoots back, shoving his spoon back into the bowl. “This is just bad. The colours are awful.”

“The story’s bad too,” Yoosung agrees. It’s kind of nice to have someone helping him stand up to Seven and his stupid pranks. “It feels like sixty different ideas are shoved into every five minutes.”

“It’s fast paced and exciting!” Seven counters. There’s a pause where both Saeran and Yoosung stare at him with varying levels of disbelief.

“The jokes aren’t even funny,” Yoosung says.

“Tear me down more, why don’t you?” Seven says, dramatically throwing himself back on the couch and clutching his heart. “Okay, fine. It’s bad. I just wanted to see your face.”

Saeran rolls his eyes and puts a spoonful of ice cream in his mouth, heading to his room and slamming the door shut without another word. Yoosung watches him as he goes.

“I don’t think I’ve spoken to Saeran properly before,” he says.

“It’s wonderful that you two can team up to rip apart my dreams.”

For some reason, they end up watching the rest of the movie, but there’s something bothering Yoosung other than the awful animation and terrible plot. Something about Saeran. He probably thinks he’s completely stupid for believing Seven, but… it seemed reasonable! The way he was explaining it made it seem like it could be real. All the information fit with episode 8 of Doctor What series 1 which he’d watched with Seven a few years ago. Yoosung was entirely prepared to never leave his room until this doppelganger of his had disappeared. Now that he thinks about it, it would be kind of cool to have a doppelganger.

When Yoosung gets home, he flops down on his bed. The idea of Saeran thinking he’s stupid is still bothering him for a reason he can’t quite figure out. He doesn’t want one of Saeran’s first impressions of him to be that he’s a gullible idiot, even if it’s probably true. He pulls his phone out his pocket and sends a quick text to Seven.

 

**To: Seven**

**(19:32)** Can I have Saeran’s number?

**To: Yoosung**

**(19:33)** Woah! Is cutie Yoosung crushing on my brother?

 

For some reason this makes Yoosung blush. Seven is such an idiot.

**To: Seven**

**(19:33)** No! I just want to explain something to him.

Thankfully, after some convincing, Seven stops being so annoying and finally sends him Saeran’s number.

 

**To: Saeran**

**(19:37)** Hi! It’s Yoosung.

 **(19:37)** I wanted to talk about the doppelganger thing

 **(19:37)** I don’t want you to think I’m stupid! It made sense at the time.

 

**To: Yoosung**

**(19:38)** It did?

 **(19:38)** How the hell can something so ridiculous make sense?

 

**To: Saeran**

**(19:38)** Ok hear me out

 **(19:39)** It’s like that episode of Doctor What

 **(19:39)** The one with Nine where they’re trapped in the church.

 

**To: Yoosung**

**(19:40)** What.

 

**To: Saeran**

**(19:40)** With the Reapers

 **(19:40)** You know? The paradox episode.

 

There’s a long pause before the next text comes through.

 

**To: Yoosung**

**(19:45)** I have no idea what you’re talking about.

 

**To: Saeran**

**(19:46)** Have you never seen Doctor What?!

 

**To: Yoosung**

**(19:47)** No.

 

**To: Saeran**

**(19:47)** omg

 

Suddenly, an idea strikes Yoosung.

 

 **(19:47)** We should watch it!

 **(19:48)** I can bring it over tomorrow if you want to?

 

**To: Yoosung**

**(19:48)** Uh… ok, sure

 **(19:49)** Will I like it?

 

**To: Saeran**

**(19:49)** Guess we’ll find out!

 **(19:49)** See you tomorrow!

 

**To: Yoosung**

**(19:50)** Ok.

 

Not quite the enthusiastic response Yoosung was hoping for, but it’s something. Maybe he can get to know Saeran better? Honestly, the thought kind of excites him, and watching one of his favourite shows with him is a good place to start. The idea of making a new friend is always appealing to Yoosung, and there’s something about Saeran that begs him to get to know him better. Is it because he’s Seven’s brother? Maybe. He wants to prove that he’s not an idiot, and to show Saeran why Seven’s prank actually sort of made sense to him. Saeran’s not allowed out the bunker alone, so that probably means he doesn’t have many friends.

Maybe Yoosung can be a friend to him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yoosung comes over to watch Doctor What with Saeran~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeeey! This chapter is by StarlingHawke, hope you enjoy! :)

**Saeran**

 

Saeran’s not sure what to expect tonight. Sure, he’s familiar with Yoosung in the sense that he’s seen him and his brother screw around multiple times by now; he knows Yoosung’s gullible and that Saeyoung preys on that just like he knows Yoosung is equally kind and forgiving to the idiot. There’s some sass hidden in there though not nearly enough in his opinion, as well as far more intelligence than his gullibility would lead one to believe.

Still, Saeran’s fairly certain he’s an idiot just like his brother.

But he’s bored. Being confined to the bunker 24/7 doesn’t lead to much excitement. He’s not into video games, not a fan of turning on the TV just to watch something, and while he loves drawing he can only do so much before his wrists start to hurt or he gets tired of it. There’s little else to do unless he wants to walk wall-to-wall or attempt to figure out cooking - which he does not. So when Yoosung texted offering to watch Doctor What, Saeran had said yes simply because it seemed like an easy way to kill time. If he doesn't like the show, he can probably amuse himself via Yoosung in some manner.

Opening his door to go grab something to drink, Saeran barely ducks in time to avoid the red fez Saeyoung chucks at him. “You’ll need it to get into the mood~” Saeyoung sings, dancing away with his arms waving ridiculously in the air.

“Idiot,” Saeran mutters, stepping out and shutting his door, resolutely ignoring him. It was a mistake to let slip the reason Yoosung was coming over, for as soon as the words ‘Doctor What’ slipped out of his mouth Saeyoung had nearly had a heart attack from excitement. Suddenly Saeran was drowning in talk of fezes and bowties, suits and some sort of screwdriver (electronic?), aliens, time travel, regeneration… he hadn’t been able to keep up, not that he’d particularly cared to. Eventually Saeyoung had realized what he was doing and shut his mouth, eyes wide in horror as he tried to backpedal and swear that he hadn’t ruined any of the plot lines for Saeran.

Saeran had told him to fuck off, as per usual, and that he didn’t give a fuck about Doctor What. When Saeyoung questioned why he was going to watch it with Yoosung, Saeran chose to just walk away. He doesn’t owe his brother any answers.

Opening the fridge, Saeran frowns at the sight before him; an entire shelf full of PhD pepper, a handful of random condiments, eggs, and some bottled water. Damn it all. Shutting the door with more force than is strictly necessary, Saeran tugs on his hair in frustration before yelling at his brother. It is far past time for him to do a grocery run.

Saeran’s in the middle of listing off the items he wants from the store when his phone chirps at him and he pulls it out, staring at it blankly for a moment before shoving it back in his pocket. “Also, Yoosung’s here, so you can just let him in and leave.”

Pouting, Saeyoung makes his way to one of his computers and overrides the door security with the press of few buttons. “A ‘please’ would be nice, lovely brother of mine~” With a wide grin, he taps the final key and an audible ‘click’ can be heard throughout the workroom. “Off to the store I go to make myself scarce for my little bro’s date,” Saeyoung teases, shoving his hands in his pockets and whistling as he goes down the steps and heads out to the garage to leave.

“Idiot,” Saeran grumbles under his breath as he strides over to stand near the door. A spike of nervousness hits him suddenly and he frowns, brows furrowing; why this? Why would he be nervous? It’s not like Yoosung means anything to him or that he-

Bright afternoon sunlight floods into the bunker and Saeran raises a hand over his eyes, squinting as the door opens and a darkened figure enters. Despite knowing that- and waiting for- Yoosung’s coming over, seeing him actually live, standing in front of him as he waves and greets him cheerily sends a shock through his system. Part of Saeran had thought that perhaps he’d dreamed up the entire interaction as the result of boredom (or loneliness) - no, definitely boredom - since he didn’t really see the appeal in hanging out with himself. Why would someone as cheerful and happy as Yoosung choose to hang out with someone like _him?_ Even now it makes no sense to Saeran, but here he is, blond hair mussed from the wind and eyes lit up with a kind of excitement Saeran can’t even begin to comprehend and he immediately looks down at the ground, hands fiddling with the hem of his shirt. Yoosung’s far too bright to look at.

“Um, hi. Come in…?” Saeran mentally curses himself for the way his voice pitches up at the end of the statement, making it seem more like a question and less like an invitation. God. He needs to pull himself together.

“Thanks!” Voice enthusiastic, Yoosung all but skips past him on his way to the couch, apparently too eager to start this to remember to shut the door. Saeran shuffles over to it and pushes it lazily, watching it creep closed while Yoosung continues to speak. “The episode I was talking about was episode 8 of the first season, but I brought my entire box set just in case you wanted to watch from the beginning!” Saeran looks up in time to see Yoosung grinning at him and shaking his bag as though he needed to show Saeran where the DVD’s lay hidden.

Doing his best to put on a poker face, Saeran slowly closes the distance between them, stepping around Yoosung to flip on the television. “Uh. The beginning is fine, I guess,” he says cautiously. The rustling of paper and fabric behind him cause him to cast a glance over his shoulder to find Yoosung digging in his bag and triumphantly pulling out a case proclaiming _Doctor What_ in bold letters on the front.

“Okay!” he says, dropping his bag to the floor beside the sofa and crouching down in front of the DVD player, preparing to insert the first disk. “Some of it’s kinda scary, but it’s not too bad.” Setting it in carefully, Yoosung stands and steps back, glancing around for the remote Saeran’s already got in hand. He grins sheepishly when he sees, moving to settle in on the couch. “It's just monsters and stuff, but there are some that _really_ scare me. I’m sure you’ll be fine though,” he tacks on at the end with a soft laugh.

Saeran raises an eyebrow and hits the _Close Tray_ button before sitting down on the opposite end of the couch, putting as much distance between himself and Yoosung as possible. “Scary, huh. Never would’ve guessed with how Saeyoung acts about it. But I’m not worried.”

Giggling, Yoosung shifts his position a little so that he’s sitting cross-legged with his elbows resting on his knees. “Well, yeah, I mean, it’s funny too. I think… er, well, I _hope_ that you’ll like it.” Sincerity radiates throughout his voice and the look he directs at Saeran is filled with that same hope.

 _Whatever, kid, it’s just a show,_ Saeran snickers internally. Yoosung shouldn’t get his hopes up; Saeran hasn’t found a genre that consistently holds his attention yet anyway. “Guess we’ll find out soon.” Raising the remote in front of his chest, Saeran selects the start option.

...only to find himself watching in utter disbelief as plastic mannequins come to life and start chasing after some blonde girl. _What the fuck… is he serious?_ Saeran glances at Yoosung out of the corner of his eye, but he seems completely enthralled with what’s going down on the T.V. _This… this has to at least rival that shitty movie they were watching yesterday._

It’s about a quarter of an hour into the episode when Saeran glances at Yoosung again only to catch his eye. Yoosung quickly smiles and asks his opinion thus far, causing Saeran to flinch and flick his eyes back to the T.V. awkwardly.

“It’s, um… interesting,” he starts, then decides to hell with acting like he even has a fucking clue what’s going on. “So what is this, the mannequins are what, actually coming to life? That’s fucking weird. And then… _that’s_ the Doctor? I thought he wore a fez, Saeyoung went on and on about fezes and bowties but I don’t see either…”

Yoosung blinks at him in surprise before his smile grows, obviously excited that Saeran’s asking questions. He turns to face him more, eyes bright as he leans forward slightly. “Oh, he _does!_ It's the eleventh Doctor who does that. This guy is the ninth. The Doctor regenerates instead of dying, so... he looks different, and has a slightly different personality every time.” Brows dipping, Yoosung laughs softly and shakes his head. “Sorry, it's... kind of confusing, I guess. But don't worry about the fez yet. Maybe we'll get that far soon!”

Turning his gaze back to the screen, Saeran raises a sole eyebrow, unconvinced. “Maybe. This might uh, be a bit too… _strange_ for me.” Plastic somehow taking on the form of a human? And Billie doesn’t even notice the difference in how Ricky behaves… or looks? That sort of sheen doesn’t normally appear on human skin, at least not that Saeran’s aware of…

Yoosung’s brows furrow further at Saeran’s answer and he frowns, almost looking disappointed. “Maybe, but… The other ones are in space, and involve time travel, so... maybe you'll like those more?"

Saeran’s not sure what’s weirder to him, the fact that Yoosung seems desperate for Saeran to like this show or that he obviously wants to spend more time with him. Yoosung is weird. Maybe not quite the idiot Saeran had assumed him to be, but definitely weird. Why on earth would someone like him want to spend time with a monster like Saeran? Huffing softly, Saeran leans back on the couch and runs his hand through his hair. If all the series is this cheesy then he definitely _won’t_ like it. He’s not even sure he really has it in him to give a shit enough to watch more. Still, the way Yoosung’s watching him, eyes wide and his lower lip snug between his teeth… “I dunno. Maybe.”

Watching as his lips tug up into a small grin, it almost looks like Yoosung himself is shining. “I hope so! But if not, maybe we could watch something else?”

Saeran rolls his eyes and shrugs. “Sure, whatever. Not like I have much else to do.” It comes out short and almost rude, which wasn’t Saeran’s intention but he’s not going to fix it. He doesn’t care enough about what Yoosung thinks of him to bother with it.

By the time the episode ends Saeran hardly feels sold on it. It had only gotten weirder, ending with Billie helping save the day with some acrobatic stunt to somehow shut down the plastic and Saeran would be lying if he said he fully understood what just happened. There was one redeeming factor about the episode, however…

“This guy, the Doctor, seems pretty cool,” Saeran admits in vague surprise. “I like the way he thinks. And his jacket.”

Yoosung’s excitement is nearly palpable and Saeran flinches in surprise, almost regretting having said anything. “Yeah, he is cool! Do you want to watch another?”

 _God, the kid is nearly vibrating with how excited he is,_ Saeran thinks to himself before nodding slowly. “Yeah, sure, why not?” It’s not like he has thrilling plans to return to, and maybe he will find the show at last somewhat entertaining if the Doctor remains like someone he can sort of relate to. “...well, as long as there’s no more talking plastic. That’s done with, right?”

Another giggle breaks free from Yoosung at Saeran’s question and Saeran can’t help but note how cute the sound is. At least his laugh isn’t annoying like Saeyoung’s… “No, don’t worry. They actually go into space in the next one!”

“Good.” Saeran's eyes focus in as the episodes starts, watching as the T.A.R.D.I.S appears on board a spaceship. That’s at least a promising start. As they explore the ship, Saeran finds himself leaning forward, gradually becoming more invested in the show.

A scene starts, showing a line of aliens entering the room the Doctor and Billie are in, passing out gifts as they walk around the circle. “I give you the breath from my lungs,” the Doctor says, gently blowing out some air onto a tree-creature standing in front of him. It’s absurd, stupid even, and yet Saeran finds himself chuckling softly at it. Eyes widening, he sinks back into the couch, embarrassed. Out of the corner of his eye he notices Yoosung sit up a little straighter and wonders what caused that; was it something in the episode or him? Yoosung’s invested enough that he might just get excited about Saeran laughing at something…

Saeran cringes a little the first time they’re introduced to Lady Cassidy, a disgusted look on his face. _She calls herself human,_ he thinks, mocking her every time she appears after. “Moisturize me,” he mimics, narrowing his eyes in disdain at the image before him. “God, she’s annoying. When will she be gone?”

That earns him another one of those cute giggles from Yoosung. “Don’t worry, she’ll be gone soon.”

Letting out a sigh of relief, Saeran allows himself to lean forward in interest again. This episode makes far more sense to him and he’s seeing a lot more of the Doctor in action. He likes that. There’s a little bit of shock when instead of helping, the Doctor chooses to let Lady Cassidy explode in a rather gruesome manner, followed by some heavily mixed feelings about what’s right and what’s wrong - his morality compass has been taken apart and put back together so many times that he’s not even sure he really has any idea anymore about what’s good or not. Still…

“Okay, this episode was a _little_ better.” Sparing a glance at Yoosung, he jumps slightly in surprise when Yoosung squeaks excitedly.

“That’s awesome! But you _really_ didn’t like Cassidy, huh?”

“God, no, she was fucking annoying.” Saeran looks down and starts playing with the hem of his sweater, contemplating the questions swirling in his mind. Does he want to ask them and engage Yoosung in a conversation? Typically Saeran’s not big on talking but this show is really piquing his curiosity and he’s never been good at holding back when that happens. His eyes flick over to Yoosung again for a second before going back to his lap. A little bit can’t hurt, right? “So… are all the episodes random or are they connected?”

“I mean, there are a few underlying plotlines, but nothing too major right now. Series one is mostly random episodes, but there are a few stories spread over two episodes." Yoosung pauses and when Saeran peeks at him he’s looking up, probably thinking. "I guess right now it's mostly the basic stuff that's connected, like characters, but it's a new adventure most of the time! Oh, and there are certain villains that come back multiple times too.”

Yoosung’s radiating pure excitement right now and Saeran can’t help but stare at him in wonder as he speaks. It’s like a light was flipped on inside of him that’s glowing outward, soft and inviting. It’s entrancing. So caught up in this is Saeran that he doesn’t register right away when Yoosung finishes speaking. Once he does, embarrassment hits him full force and he rips his eyes away, ducking his head to hide the pink tint of his cheeks. “Oh. Sounds… cool.” He hadn’t actually listened to a word Yoosung said.

“Yeah! It is,” Yoosung agrees, leaning toward him a little again. “Want to watch another episode?”

“Um, sure,” Saeran says, but he grabs the remote and pauses the episode before it truly has a chance to start. “But I’m going to get some ice cream first.” Anytime is a good time for his favorite treat, but Saeran’s really feeling the urge after socializing. Not like Yoosung has been anything other than kind, but his general high energy and excitement is a little much for Saeran to take after being alone so long. Granted there’s Saeyoung around too, but that hardly counts when Saeran spends all of his time hiding in his room.

Standing, Saeran moves behind the couch in lieu of passing directly in front of Yoosung as he walks to the kitchen, hands shoved in his pockets and head down. He makes it to the stairs before pausing, a tip Saeyoung had told him once offhandedly popping into his mind randomly. “Uh. Do you want some?” Saeran doesn’t really mind the idea of sharing, it just doesn’t occur to him naturally since, well, no one really shared anything with _him_ outside of the scraps of bread that he and Saeyoung were fed as children. Yoosung accepts the offer and Saeran nods, quickly slipping into the kitchen and pulling down two of the bowls he designated specifically for ice cream. They’re large and hold quite a lot, which is why he chose them. The more ice cream Saeran can have in one sitting, the happier he is.

Saeran returns to the couch with both of them piled high with chocolate ice cream. It’s all they have right now, though hopefully Saeyoung will bring home more tonight. One of the things he’d asked for had been his favorite flavor - chocolate cherry. However, this will do for now.

Handing one to Yoosung along with a spoon, he sits back on his end of the couch, legs folded underneath of him this time. “Hope you don’t mind chocolate. It’s all we have.” He immediately digs his spoon in and slips some into his mouth, closing his eyes happily as the sweetness blooms across his tongue.

“I love chocolate. Thanks,” Yoosung says, smiling and digging into his own. There’s a moment of silence before Saeran realizes he should probably press play.

Halfway through the episode, Saeran sighs and sets his empty bowl in front of him. “Who is Charles Dickens?” he asks defeatedly, staring at his hands lying limply in his lap. He’d been attempting to avoid asking, hoping that at some point it would be explained in the show but he has a feeling he’s supposed to just _know_ who that is. Which he doesn’t. “The name sounds familiar but I… I can’t place him.” God, he probably sounds so stupid right now.

“Oh, he was a writer in, like… the 1800’s? I think. He’s English and his stuff is pretty famous…” Yoosung’s voice is soft and kind, not judgemental in the slightest. A little bit of the shame Saeran feels evaporates. “I, uh… I haven’t actually read any of it though. Don’t know much about him, really.”

“Ah. Thanks.” Silence falls between them as Saeran focuses on the episode, the only other noise in the room the clinking of Yoosung’s spoon against the bowl until he finally sets his next to Saeran’s.

“Is ice cream your favorite food?”

Saeran blinks and swivels his head to glance at Yoosung in surprise. He really wasn’t expecting there to be any questions about himself asked, but… it’s a pretty harmless answer. “Yeah.”

Nodding, Yoosung bites his lip in thought. “I like ice cream, too. I don't know what my favourite food is, though. I like most things. Maybe fried chicken. Oh! And my mum makes this great kimchi. I can make it too, but it's not as good.” Suddenly his cheeks flush and he turns to face the television again. “Sorry, I'll let you watch this,” he says quietly.

“Oh.” Is that guilt in Yoosung’s voice? Saeran’s unsure, and it takes him a moment to process everything Yoosung told him anyway before he speaks again. “I’ve… never had kimchi.”

“What?” Yoosung’s gaze swings back over to him in shock. “Really? I could... I could make you some if you want sometime?"

Saeran’s mouth opens and then quickly closes, words failing him. Yoosung’s… offering to cook for him? How _weird_. “You don’t have to,” he mumbles, looking away. “I don’t want to be a burden.”

"I don't mind! It's no problem at all. I make it all the time!" Yoosung insists. "I'm trying to get better at it, so maybe it would be good practice.” He pauses a moment before continuing. “I can let you know next time I get round to making some and bring it over?"

“I… sure, I guess.” Saeran tugs on his hair a little before visibly trying to focus on the screen. He’s… confused as to why Yoosung would want to do anything like this for him. It makes no sense. Why is Yoosung so weird?

When the episode ends Saeran’s vaguely annoyed to find out it’s the last one on the disk. After affirming that he does actually want to watch more, Yoosung shuffles over to switch it. “So uh… how many seasons are there of this?” Saeran asks cautiously. If he does end up agreeing to watch more - and potentially all - of it with Yoosung, he wants to know just what he’s getting into.

“Oh, there’s loads!” Yoosung chatters happily, dropping the new disk in and putting the old one away. “It's currently on its 10th series, and that's not even including all the ones before this one.” Sitting back on the couch, he levels a pleased grin at Saeran. “There are all the classic ones too. The show started in... the 1960s, I think? And then there was a break in like 1990 until this series,” he waves a hand at the screen as the menu pops up. “I've watched all the newer ones, and some of the classics too. I'm not sure how many seasons of that there are, though..." He pauses, looking contemplative.

“...oh.” That’s… that’s an awfully lot. Maybe more than Saeran can agree to. “It must be really popular to have lasted so long.”

“It is! I think it's really big in the UK. I don't know how many more seasons there will be. I mean, it could go on forever!"

Saeran frowns. “Forever seems a little unrealistic,” he says slowly, mildly concerned for Yoosung’s sanity that he would consider that a viability. Until Saeran sees the amused look crossing his face, that is. Fuck. “...pretend I didn’t say that. I… take things too literally at times,” he grumbles, dragging a hand down his heated face.

Yoosung giggles and beams at him. “It’s okay! I tend to exaggerate a bit too.”

Grunting in response, Saeran watches the next episode with nearly the same distaste as the first one. With the exception of the Doctor, of course. The longer he watches the show, the more he wants to continue watching solely to see what he does. It ends on a cliffhanger, annoyingly enough, but his stomach growling demands some attention.

“Hungry?” Saeran looks up to see Yoosung watching him curiously. Nodding slowly, Saeran scratches at his head while Yoosung smiles warmly. “We could take a break, maybe get some food? If you want to keep watching, that is.”

“Yeah, it’s… that’s fine.” Saeran grabs his phone to check the time. His eyes widen when he see’s it’s already almost eight. “I… huh? I’ve never had time pass so quickly before…” He rubs his eyes to make sure he’s not hallucinating. Nope. “Wow,” he says softly.

Yoosung laughs. “Yeah, that’ll happen. Hoping we can make it to Fathersday tonight so you can at least see why I thought Seven’s prank was plausible.” He shifts uneasily, eyes sliding to the side. Saeran chuckles quietly when he realizes Yoosung is embarrassed still. As if he wasn’t fully aware how gullible Yoosung was before that whole thing happened. “Anyway… do you want to order pizza?”

“Yeah, pizza sounds… okay.” It’s been awhile since Saeran’s had pizza. “And maybe more ice cream after.”

After some discussion and Saeran specifying he likes stuffed crust with extra cheese and nothing spicy, Yoosung places an order from Don’t Me Knows Pizza. “They should be here soon!” he says when he hangs up. “Oh… do you think we should’ve ordered something for Seven?”

Saeran rolls his eyes. “No. He’ll be home soon with something obnoxious to eat anyway,” he mumbles, looking off toward the door. Saeyoung’s already been gone far longer than he expected.

A snort draws his attention back to Yoosung. “How can food be obnoxious?” he inquires curiously.

"By being in Saeyoung's hands," Saeran deadpans, snickering. "But he does somehow bring home the noisiest, smelliest food sometimes."

Yoosung giggles. "Oh my God. I bet that's fun to live with."

“A blast." Yoosung’s laughter throws Saeran off-balance. Does he actually find Saeran’s sense of humor funny? That's... new. Saeyoung usually just gets upset or offended.

"He's a really noisy eater too." Eyes widening, Yoosung slaps a hand over his mouth in horror as soon as the words leave his mouth. "Don't tell him I said that!"

Saeran’s lips quirk up minutely at the combination of Yoosung's initial statement and then his reaction. "You don't want him to know you know he's a noisy eater?" he asks, amused. "A real friendship-breaker, huh. Remind me not to eat noisily around you, then." Or to do it, depending on what outcome Saeran desires.

“No! I just don’t want him to get upset.”

“Your secrets die with me,” Saeran replies somberly. “My brother will never find out your opinion of his eating habits from me.”

“Thank you.” Yoosung smiles and there’s a pregnant pause as the two just look at each other before he bursts into giggles again. “It’s sometimes pretty gross, though.”

“You should hear him eating spaghetti.” Even just the memory makes Saeran cringe and he shivers, pulling a face of pure disgust. “Yuck. I never knew eating could sound so…” Trailing off, he wracks his brain for a word to appropriately describe the sounds he associates with the sight of his twin eating the long noodles, one hand gesturing helplessly in the air.

“Slurpy?” Yoosung fills in, following the word with a fairly loud example of it, mouth curved in an o shape. “Like that?”

“Almost,” Saeran says, half amused, still half disgusted. “But much, much worse. God, I usually lock myself in my room until he’s done because I can’t stand it.”

Yoosung’s laughter fills up the room and Saeran feels a smile tug at his own lips. “Oh god, this is bad. I shouldn’t be saying things like this…”

There’s a hint of guilt in his words. Saeran promptly frowns, looking at Yoosung in confusion. “Why? What’s wrong with stating your opinion?”

“He’s my best friend, I shouldn’t be saying bad things about him!” Yoosung insists, laughter quieting as he runs a hand through his hair.

“I don’t… talking about eating habits is bad?” Is this one of those things Saeran doesn’t understand but should? One of those social nuances he's failed to grasp?

“Well, not exactly, but… I mean saying bad things about him in general. I shouldn’t be mean like that.” All joy is gone from Yoosung’s face now and he looks down at his lap, abashed, brows drawn and lips turned down. “I always try to be nice but sometimes… sometimes I get angry or annoyed with people. It’s bad, but I try not to let it get to me.”

“But that’s normal, isn’t it?” Saeran’s confused at Yoosung’s sudden turn of mood. “Getting annoyed or angry is just human. It’s only bad if you do something stupid because of it, right?”

“I guess so…” Yoosung shrugs. “I just don’t really like being angry.”

“Ah.” Saeran starts fidgeting as the conversation veers into territory he’s not incredibly adept at. It’s not a surprise that Yoosung doesn’t like dealing with anger; he’s always so happy and borderline bubbly, the emotion’s probably uncomfortable for him. Pushing one hand’s fingernails partially under the the other’s, he shrugs. “I guess I’m just angry all the time so I’m used to it.”

Yoosung looks up at him sadly. “You… don’t seem to have been angry since I’ve been here?” he asks hopefully.

“I’m always angry.” He keeps his voice quiet, watching Yoosung curiously. The way he’d asked that question makes Saeran wonder if his answer will upset him. “Maybe less so at this moment, but it never goes away. It’s just who I am now.”

“I don't believe that. Maybe you're angry now, but I don't think you will be forever." Yoosung pauses, frowning. "You're a good person, Saeran. I can tell.”

"No." Saeran's voice rings out loud and clear with a bit more force than he means. "I’m many things, but good isn't one of them." A familiar weight starts pressing down on his chest and he brings his legs up to him, curling into a ball to make himself as small as possible. "I'm not good. Never been good, can't be good." It feels like every breath is limited, like there's a vice on his chest making it so he can't breathe and he needs to breathe, he needs to calm down and focus before he loses himself but oh god, he _can't breathe_ , his lungs aren’t working and there are black dots at the edges of his vision and _he can’t breathe…_

“Saeran?” The couch dips beside him and through the haze taking over his mind Saeran can guess that means that Yoosung’s scooting closer to him. “Can I touch you?”

Saeran presses up against the arm of the couch to try to get as far away as he can. Under normal circumstances he will avoid touching people as much as possible because it’s generally an uncomfortable sensation for him. A sensory issue is what his therapist calls it, but all he knows it feels like tingling, scraping, little pin pricks… it sets him on edge. But when he’s like this, when an attack starts to take over everything becomes amplified. It’s hard to tell how any contact will feel - there have been times when a hug from Saeyoung has helped, has comforted him enough to at least stop things from worsening but there have also been instances where it feels like the smallest brush of skin cuts deep like a razor blade. It’s impossible to predict which it will be. Does he dare?

“...yeah,” he finally chokes out, followed by one more word: “talk.”

A hand lands on his shoulder and he hears Yoosung stumble a little as he tries to comply with Saeran’s demand. “Okay, um… Well, uhm, I think one of the things I like the most about Doctor What is how it links to real life." There’s a short pause and when he starts again, he’s speaking slower. "Even though it's sci-fi, you know? The way the Doctor is an alien who's hundreds and hundreds of years old, but they somehow still make him... human."

If there’s any chance of Saeran getting trapped in his own mind and needing grounding, he’ll ask someone around him to talk. He doesn’t care about what because he usually doesn’t even pay attention to the words, he focuses in on the cadence, the tone, the flow of it. Yoosung’s tempo isn’t the most even; he keeps speeding up - likely out of nervousness - and then slowing back down. For the first time in his memory, Saeran finds himself actually attempting to focus on the _content_ of what’s being said since it’s about Doctor What.

“I mean he’s got two hearts and he’s a Time Lord but it’s easy to disregard that a lot of the time because he seems like the type of person you might meet anywhere, know what I’m saying? Like just an everyday guy who ends up being in the right place at the right time and is smart enough to figure his way out and happens to save the world in the process.” Another pause. “...is this even helping?”

Saeran nods jerkily, unable to voice anything yet.

"Okay, um... I guess it's kind of hard to explain, but I think what makes him so interesting is that everyone can find something in him that they recognise. That's what makes it so easy to suspend your disbelief, too. About him being a time traveller, I mean. It's like... it's like he's scattered throughout history, and people have been learning from him for all this time."

This time when Yoosung pauses, Saeran pushes some words past his tight throat. "Almost like he's real," Saeran rasps. His mind’s a little fuzzy and his breathing is still shallow but he's slowly starting to come out of his head. Remaining hunched over with his eyes shut, Saeran wants to hear more. "Like this is some weird documentary framed as fiction. Because we can't believe he's real, it’s too… impossible.”

"Exactly! It's just like that. And I think people like to believe there's someone looking out for us, too. Someone who will help when things go wrong." Yoosung’s voice is becoming less stressed and contains just the slightest trace of excitement now that Saeran’s responding.

"Except aliens aren't real." As grand of a thought as the existence of a real-life Doctor would be, it's an impossibility. "And... no one's that good of a person." Saeran's never come across anyone like that: selfless, kind, always willing to lend a hand. Protective. No, people are liars, corrupted and only out for themselves. Blinking open his eyes, Saeran feels a large shift in his emotions start to take place, volatile and venomous words rising to the tip of his tongue.

"I don't know about aliens, but... but there are good people in the world," Yoosung says cautiously. "No one's perfect, but most people try to be good. I know I do."

"Do they." Saeran lifts his head, breathing finally back to a normal rate as he levels his burning hot eyes at Yoosung. All of his anxiety and desperate guilt that’d came crashing down on him only moments before has been replaced by anger and bitterness, making him want to lash out, to draw blood. He thinks of all the 'good' people he's met: Saeyoung, V, Rika. He'd believed everyone at Mint Eye to be worthy of paradise once. In the end, none of them, including himself, even qualified as _decent_. "I'm not sure if I believe that."

Yoosung's obviously taken by surprise at the sudden change in Saeran’s demeanor but his voice remains steady when he speaks. "They do. People... people are trying their best. It doesn't always work, and of course there are people who don't try at all, but that's not _everyone_. In fact, it's not many people at all. I know a lot of good people."

"Really?" Saeran sneers, dropping his feet back to the floor and crossing his arms over his chest defensively. "I don't suppose you're referring to _my brother_ as one of those people, are you? Because if you are, then you’re fucking stupid."

Yoosung takes his hand slowly away from Saeran and visibly gulps, Adams apple bobbing as he tries desperately not to cry. He turns away, fingers fidgeting with the hem of his t-shirt as Saeran continues to glare at him. "I... maybe I am. But if I have to be s-stupid to have hope that the world isn't as shitty as it looks, then I don't want to be smart."

The moisture in Yoosung’s eyes sends a familiar thrill through Saeran. How Saeran _yearns_ to see those tears fall, to see Yoosung’s hope shatter and that positive outlook on the world break down before him. Yoosung had called him a good person. Now he'll see just how wrong he was. "The world is fucking shitty and so is everyone in it. Everyone. Me, you, especially my idiot brother. It's not just stupid to think otherwise, it's fucking _insane_. Are you crazy, Yoosung Kim?" Saeran leans forward, a feral snarl on his face as he ducks down to look into Yoosung’s wet eyes. "Does that run in your family?"

Yoosung leans away, fear etched across his features. "F-family?" he splutters out. "You don't know my family."

Saeran's lip curls in disgust. Don't know his family, indeed. God, how Saeran _wishes_ he didn’t know that wretched family of Yoosung’s. He opens his mouth to tell Yoosung _everything_ , to dump information heavy enough to pin Yoosung’s shoulders to the ground on him but a hand placed on his shoulder causes him to whip around, coming face-to-face with an alarmed Saeyoung.

"Saeran," Saeyoung says softly in that stupid voice he thinks is soothing but Saeran just finds more irritating, "that's not how we treat our guests." His eyes flick over to Yoosung, scanning him a moment before he drops his hand. "Someone ordered pizza without me~" he jokes in a failed attempt to lighten the mood, handing the box over to Yoosung. "The rest of the groceries are still in the car but..." Saeyoung eyes Saeran a moment. "I think I’ll go grab the ice cream right now. Yoosung, why don’t you come help me?”

Saeran scoffs and leans back into the couch, sullen as Yoosung lets out a shaky breath and stands and sets the pizza down, following Saeyoung out to the garage and leaving Saeran alone. Tapping the side of his arms in annoyance, Saeran ends up starting the next episode without a care as to whether Yoosung will mind. A distraction is needed right now and Doctor What is the obvious one, what with it still paused on the opening scene in front of him.

He’s already halfway through when Yoosung and Saeyoung finally re-enter the living room, the former taking his seat at the other side of the couch with a nervous look at Saeran while the latter hands him a heaping bowl of chocolate cherry deliciousness.

“I’m going to go into my workroom for now.” Saeran keeps his eyes trained on the television; he has a feeling these words are more for Yoosung than him anyway. “If either of you need anything, let me know. Okay?”

“Yeah.” Footsteps pad away until the sound of a door shutting echoes, leaving Saeran wondering how long it will take Yoosung to try to talk to him again. At least he’s cooled down a little by now. “I don't want to argue with you.” Quiet and tentative, Yoosung speaks much sooner than Saeran guessed he would. "I... I'm sorry if I upset you. I didn't mean to."

Saeran snorts, shoveling some ice cream into his mouth and swallowing before answering. "Upset me? Don't give yourself too much credit, kid. Like I told you, I'm always angry."

Yoosung audibly takes in a deep breath. "I know you are. I'm just sorry I made it worse," he says. Saeran sees him glance down at the pizza box in his hands. "Do you... do you want me to leave now?"

Saeran looks over at Yoosung, narrowing his eyes. Does he want Yoosung to leave? Conflicting feelings arise inside of him. Whatever, he wants to at least finish this episode. “No.”

"...okay." Obviously confused, Yoosung bites his lip and opens the pizza box, sitting it carefully on the table in front of them. "Have as much as you want," he says, and gives Saeran a small smile as he takes a piece for himself.

Saeran grunts in response, busy scooping ice cream into his mouth. He focuses on the TV, letting it distract him from everything that just happened and all the terrible things going through his head... and that he said...  
  
It’s silent between the two as the episode finishes and the next one begins. Saeran finishes his ice cream and sets the bowl on top of the other, frowning at the pizza. He wants some, but does he really feel comfortable taking some after everything that transpired between them? "Sorry," he says quietly, hesitantly reaching for a piece. Yoosung _did_ say he could have as much as he wants...

“It’s okay.” Yoosung’s eyes don’t waver from the television and Saeran falls back against the couch, pizza in hand, staring at him in disbelief.

"No," Saeran says firmly. "It's not. Don't... don't do that." He takes a bite of pizza.

Yoosung turns his head to look at him, surprised. He opens his mouth once, furrows his brows and shuts it, obviously choosing his words carefully. "Okay... it's not. But I forgive you."

Saeran cringes. Forgiveness is _not_ something he deserves. Not now, not ever. "Why?" he asks, genuinely confused. "Why would you forgive me?"

Yoosung shrugs. "Why wouldn't I?" he responds simply. "It's... things just got out of hand. It's not a big deal."

Saeran observes Yoosung for a little longer, searching his face for any sign of the deceit he's so used to seeing from others. There's nothing but kindness there. For the first time in many years, Saeran actually finds himself second guessing his harsh view of the human race. Could he have been wrong? Could there be at least _one_ good person in the world? It's… possible but far too soon to tell, so he slumps back into the couch, quashing the hope trying rise within him. "Uh. Thanks. I guess."

“You’re welcome.” The answer is immediate and Saeran feels like he doesn’t deserve it. Shrinking into the corner of the couch, he slowly eats his pizza without initiating any more conversation, only taking one more piece throughout the next two episodes. He makes it through the story that introduces them to the Dalek (and he mentally ridicules the salt-and-pepper shaker designs, complete with whisk and toilet plunger - could they have come up with anything more lame?) but he finds himself slowly getting overwhelmed during the following episode. Between his thoughts, the presence of Yoosung and the constant barrage of stimuli in front of him it’s becoming impossible for him to focus. It’s entirely possible exhaustion is playing into it as well; Saeran doesn’t know for sure, all he knows is that when the episode ends he abruptly shuts the television off and stands, wordlessly walking to the work room to get Saeyoung’s attention. He needs to go lay down in the dark pronto before he has another breakdown.

Luckily, Saeyoung takes one look at his face and understands _exactly_ what’s going on. “You go,” he says, hands held up in front of him so Saeran can see he has no intention of touching him. “I’ll let Yoosung know what’s up.”

With a curt nod, Saeran turns and makes a beeline to his room, not stopping when Yoosung calls out to him. He can’t, not now. Instead he increases his pace until he’s safe in his room, shutting the door behind him and collapsing face first into his bed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter by Ely!  
> It's long overdue, I know. I hope you like it! It's very dialogue heavy, but hopefully that's okay ;;;

“Saeran!”

Yoosung calls after him as he watches him wordlessly head into his room and close the door. Did he say something wrong? He stands to follow. To apologise. Anything, but another voice from behind him speaks first.

“Sit down.”

Yoosung spins around to see Seven walking over to him. He slowly sits back down on the couch and Seven collapses next to him. His body movements seem casual. Is he not worried? Or is Yoosung just overreacting?

“He gets a little overwhelmed sometimes,” Seven explains.

“I didn’t mean to upset him,” Yoosung says guiltily, pulling his knees up onto the couch and hugging them against himself.

“It’s okay. It’s not because of that,” Seven reassures him. “When he gets tired, things get too much for him.”

It sounds so reasonable when he says it like this. But… Yoosung still can’t help but feel like he’s done something wrong. Maybe he was too loud? Too talkative? But Saeran had seemed okay at the time. There had been a few bumps in the road, but on the whole it had been a pretty pleasant day.

“Do you think he’ll want to hang out with me again?” Yoosung asks quietly.

Seven raises an eyebrow at Yoosung. “ _You_ want to hang out with _him_?” he says in exaggerated disbelief.

“Uh… yeah?” Yoosung looks at him in confusion. Why did Seven say it like that? He thought he cared about his brother…

As soon as he starts grinning, Yoosung hits him with a cushion. Of course he was joking.

“I’m serious! You’re such a jerk!”

Seven giggles and blocks Yoosung’s hits. “Takes one to know one.”

“What are you, twelve?!” Yoosung cries out, but he quickly gives up and hugs the cushion to his chest instead. “Jerk,” he mumbles again under his breath. Seven just laughs.

“For the record, I do think he’ll want to. And even if he doesn’t, you should anyway. It would be good for him to have a friend.”

Yoosung nods. “Okay. Well… um…” He glances around the room, eyes locking on the black TV screen for a moment before looking back to Seven. “I’ll leave the disk here. That way he can watch more if he feels like it.” He pauses. “And I’ll have an excuse to come back and hang out again.”

“Such a kind man!” Seven exclaims, ruffling Yoosung’s hair. Yoosung groans, and hits him with the cushion again.

“Leave me alone!”

 

* * *

 

Yoosung isn’t sure when he should text Saeran. It’s only been a couple of days, and despite the few difficulties they faced, Yoosung wants to hang out with him again.

Fortunately he doesn’t have to worry too much, because that evening he gets a text from Saeran. A smile spreads across his face when his name pops up on his screen.

 

**To: Yoosung**

**(21:03)** Hey. Thought you might like to see this.

 **(21:03)** [img attach]

Yoosung clicks on the image attachment to open the picture and lets out a small gasp when it pops up. It’s a drawing of the Doctor and Billie! Wait… did Saeran do that? He had no idea he was so good at drawing, or even that he drew at all. It’s stylized in a way that is just so obviously Saeran’s style, even though Yoosung’s never seen any of his drawings before. It just _fits_ him.

 

**To: Saeran**

**(21:04)** omg!!

 **(21:04)** I didn’t know you could draw!

 **(21:05)** That’s so cool, I love it.

 

**To: Yoosung**

**(21:06)** Yeah, I draw.

 **(21:06)** Don’t usually show people though.

 

Yoosung feels honoured Saeran would show him. But Saeran’s really good. Why doesn’t he show people? Yoosung would be so proud of himself if he ever managed to draw anything like that.

 

**To: Saeran**

**(21:06)** Well I’m glad you showed me that!

 **(21:07)** I’d love to see more!!

 **(21:07)** Only if you want, obviously.

 

**To: Yoosung**

**(21:08)** Yeah, I could show you more sometime.

 **(21:08)** Only because you let me borrow that disk though.

 

Yoosung smiles at his phone. So it paid off!

 

**To: Saeran**

**(21:09)** I can’t wait!

 **(21:09)** When do you think I could next come over?

 

**To: Yoosung**

**(21:10)** Anytime.

 **(21:10)** Wednesday afternoons I’m busy but that’s it.

 

It’s Sunday today, and Yoosung stops to think for a moment. He only has a half day on Tuesdays, so maybe that would work.

 

**To: Saeran**

**(21:11)** Ok, how does Tuesday sound?

 **(21:11)** I finish early on Tuesdays so I can get there at maybe 1-2pm.

 

**To: Yoosung**

**(21:12)** That’s fine.

 

**To: Saeran**

**(21:12)** Okay! See you then :)

 

**To: Yoosung**

**(21:12)** See you.

 

That was easier than Yoosung had thought it would be, and he can already feel himself getting excited. Maybe he really _can_ be a friend to Saeran like he hoped.

 

* * *

 

This is the second time this week Yoosung’s been on the bus to the bunker, and it’s the second time he’s ever gone there _not_ to specifically see Seven.

He sends Saeran a quick text to let him know he’s about five minutes away, unsurprised to receive no response. He hopes he got it. He doesn’t want to have to argue with the door like he usually does.

He jumps off the bus and makes his way to the bunker, checking his phone just to make sure Saeran really hasn’t responded, and also to type out another text.

 

**To: Saeran**

**(13:22)** I’m outside! Is it open?

 

It only takes a few seconds before the door is pulled open in front of him. Yoosung breathes out a sigh of relief.

“You can probably assume that when you’re here to see me, the door will be open right away,” Saeran says, stepping out the way.

“Hey, Saeran!” Yoosung greets him with a wide smile as he steps inside. “I just wanted to make sure. I’ve fought with that door way too many times already.”

Saeran glances at the door as he closes it, and Yoosung catches an odd look in his eyes.

“So…” Saeran says after a moment’s pause, scratching the back of his neck a little awkwardly. “You want to keep watching?”

“Yeah!” Yoosung says excitedly, but then he remembers to reign it in. “I mean, if you want to. I know I nerd out a lot, so I’m not sure if that’s… I dunno, too much.” The comment Seven made about Saeran getting overwhelmed is stuck in his head. He knows he can be a little much sometimes when talking about something he really loves. Doctor What just happens to be one of those things.

“No, it’s… interesting.” Saeran heads to the couch, and Yoosung follows and sits down.

Interesting? That’s not something Yoosung has ever expected anyone to call him, let alone Saeran. He feels a warm glow inside him at the compliment.

“Oh! Thank you,” Yoosung says, smiling at him again as he sits next to him.

“Yeah…” Saeran shifts a little. Yoosung’s sitting slightly closer this time around, and he wonders if that bothers him. Maybe he should move away…? “Um. Idiot is out, but he’ll be coming home. I told him to leave us alone, so don’t be surprised if he walks through.” Saeran starts up the episode where they left off. “But uh. Yeah.”

“Idiot?” It takes Yoosung a second to register who he means, and as soon as he does, he giggles. “Seven? Okay, that’s fine.”

“Why do you still call him that?” Saeran says suddenly. “It’s not his name. He’s not a secret agent anymore. He’s just… an idiot.”

“Oh.” Yoosung frowns in thought. “I don’t know, actually. I guess it’s just habit?” He shakes his head. “I should probably try harder to remember to call him Saeyoung.”

Saeran shrugs. “You do what you want. I was just curious.”

There’s a strange silence, and Yoosung feels the need to say something else, but Saeran’s staring at the screen now. Yoosung doesn’t want to distract him.

To his surprise Saeran breaks the silence.

“I’ve been thinking… this Doctor seems to be kind of… um…” He pauses, seeming to struggle with words for a moment. “Is he okay?”

“Hm?” Yoosung looks at him. “What… um…” He’s not entirely sure what Saeran means. “He’s had a pretty bad past? He, uh, there was a big war, so he’s traumatized from that…” Yoosung trails off. “Is that what you mean?”

Saeran nods slowly. “Yeah. And he seems so, I don’t know… lonely, even when surrounded by people. I get that.” He bites his lip and pulls his legs up into his chest.

Is Saeran opening up to him? Yoosung needs to tread carefully, so he pauses to think.

“I think I do too. Like, when I’m with my friends sometimes I feel like I don’t really… belong. As if I’m just kind of an extra.” Yoosung looks away. He doesn’t want to make it sound like he’s just talking about himself. He didn’t mean for that.

Saeran doesn’t respond for a moment, and Yoosung wonders if he crossed a line and messed up. Again.

“That sucks. You shouldn’t have to deal with that.”

Yoosung blinks at him in surprise. It’s strange. Usually Yoosung doesn’t tell people things like this, but for some reason it feels like it’s okay with Saeran. Like it’s okay to show the slightly darker sides of himself.

“It’s okay. I think everyone gets like that sometimes,” he says shrugging. “I guess that’s why people like this show so much. They can kind of relate to that.”

“Yeah.” Saeran wraps his arms around his legs and squints at the TV. “I’m sure there’s something to be said about the desire to leave this shitty world behind and explore and save others, too.” He sounds strangely wistful. This is getting deeper than Yoosung expected, and he isn’t quite sure what to say.

“Yeah, I guess that’s true.”

“Sorry.”

Yoosung looks at him in surprise. “What?! Why?”

Saeran shrugs and lowers his head so Yoosung can only see his eyes and forehead above his knees. “Feels like I said something wrong. I do that a lot. So, sorry.”

Yoosung shakes his head. “No! You didn’t. You don’t need to apologise for saying what you think,” he tells him. “It’s your opinion, so it’s can’t be wrong. I agree with you, anyway!”

There’s a pause, and Saeran looks a little stunned. Has no one ever told him this before?

“Okay,” he whispers. He sounds confused, but Yoosung decides not to comment on it.

“Oh! This is the episode I was talking about!” Yoosung says excitedly. “The one that made me think maybe Sev- Saeyoung was telling the truth.”

“Right.”

They watch the episode without another word, and Yoosung can feel himself getting a little embarrassed as it unfolds. Of _course_ it’s fiction. How could he have been so stupid? That’s the problem with Seven’s pranks. They always seem reasonable at the time, but in hindsight they’re the most obvious thing in the world.

By the time the episode’s finished, Yoosung isn’t feeling quite so excited. Saeran probably thinks he’s a total idiot now… if he didn’t already. The next episode starts up without a word from Saeran, and it takes him a few moments to speak.

“So… that episode was what made you believe Saeyoung?” Saeran says slowly.

“Mmhm. It’s stupid,” Yoosung mumbles.

“I don’t think so,” he says quietly. Yoosung looks at him in surprise as he stares at the screen. Before he has a chance to respond, Saeran speaks again. “Why is just the one kid wearing a gas mask?”

Yoosung feels all his embarrassment give way for excitement. “Ooh! This episode is scary!” He pauses. “I mean… _I_ think it is. Just wait and see!”

As the episode plays out, Saeran drops his feet back to the floor and leans forward, forearms resting on his thighs as he watches the screen.

“Are you my mummy?” he whispers under his breath, as though trying to figure out what it means. Yoosung grins but doesn’t say anything. This is one of Yoosung’s favourites.

When the episode ends unresolved, Saeran lets out an annoyed huff. “There’s more, right?” he asks gruffly.

“Yeah! This is a two part story,” he says. “I think they’re my favourite episodes in the series.”

“Good.” He focuses intently again, chewing on his lip. “I don’t like Jack,” he says suddenly, eyebrows furrowed. Yoosung’s surprised at the sudden declaration.

“Really? Why not?”

“He’s too… flirty. And a liar.” He pauses. “But he’s better than Cassidy.”

“Hmm,” Yoosung hums, tilting his head to the side as he watches the screen. He can feel a small smile on his face. “No one’s as bad as Cassidy, right?” He finds it cute how invested Saeran is in this show already.

“There better not be anyone worse than her,” he grumbles. They watch in silence until suddenly, something catches his attention. “Wait, what?! That’s her _son_?!”

Yoosung presses his hands to his mouth and tries not to make any embarrassing noises. Watching Saeran’s reactions is so satisfying. He’s never watched Doctor What with someone who had never seen it before, and he loves it. He watches Saeran’s face instead of the screen as the Doctor yells “everybody lives!” and wonders what he’s thinking right now.

“Those were two very good episodes,” Saeran says once the episode ends. Yoosung nods in agreement.

“They were. They’re so… hopeful. He finally got to save everyone. I love that.”

“Yeah, it’s a nice change,” Saeran says quietly. “It wasn’t really scary, though.”

“Oh…” Yoosung lets out an awkward giggle. “Maybe it’s just because I first watched as a kid. I just remember getting really scared. I guess it’s more creepy than scary?”

Saeran turns to look at him. “I could get behind creepy,” he says slowly. “The idea of a child just being empty like that is fucking unsettling.”

Yoosung nods. “Yeah. And the mask? It’s just… _creepy_!” he says. “Maybe I’m a wuss, but there are some Doctor What episodes that really scare me. Just wait until you watch the episodes with the Crying Angels.” Yoosung shudders.

“The Crying… Angels?” Saeran looks at Yoosung doubtfully. “Those don’t sound like scary villain types.”

“I know, but they’re _terrifying_!” he insists. “They’re not in it for a while though. I think they’re introduced in like… season 3.”

“I’ll look forward to them,” Saeran deadpans, raising an eyebrow. “Any other absolutely terrifying creatures I should be on the lookout for?”

Yoosung pouts and folds his arms. “You’re making fun of me,” he says in what he hopes is a jokey enough tone for Saeran to pick up on. Thankfully Saeran snickers.

“Make fun of someone as cute and innocent as you? Never.”

Yoosung feels a warmth explode inside him at the words, and he can’t help but smile, although he desperately tries to maintain his pout. “Okay, now you’re _definitely_ making fun of me!” Saeran rolls his eyes and huffs out a short breath of laughter, shaking his head. Yoosung hadn’t expected Saeran to like joking around like this.

“You seem to enjoy being made fun of. Suddenly your friendship with my brother makes much more sense.”

“Hmph. Sometimes he’s just _mean_ though,” Yoosung huffs. He’s not actually mad, he’s just kidding. Saeran seems really relaxed right now.

“Taking things too far. That’s Saeyoung for you.”

“Yep! He does it all the time!” Yoosung complains. “And I always fall for his pranks. It’s so… ugh. I’m stupid.”

Saeran raises his eyebrows. “Naivety is not the same as stupidity,” he says slowly. “He’s also very good at picking up on weak points and exploiting them.” Yoosung had never thought about it like that.

“Hmm, I guess so. I guess my weak points are just… most things, then,” he half-jokes with a laugh.

Saeran stares at Yoosung for a moment and then turns away, shrugging.

“I don’t know you well enough to argue that, but I doubt it’s true.”

Yoosung looks at him and then sighs and leans back. “It’s nice to hear someone say that,” he admits. “Most people just think I’m weak. I guess I don’t blame them, really.” He shrugs. He needs to stop feeling so sorry for himself. “It’s fine though. It’s not really a big deal.”

Saeran starts picking at his cuticles, and Yoosung runs his fingers through his hair as a silence settles over them.

They both jump out their skin when the door suddenly bursts open and Seven saunters inside.

“My two favourite people in the world!” he exclaims, rushing over to the couch to ruffle Yoosung’s hair.

“Go away,” Yoosung whines.

“Piss off,” Saeran says simultaneously. Seven raises his eyebrows and pouts.

“Well, I can see where I’m not wanted,” he cries dramatically as he heads to his room and closes the door behind him. Yoosung rolls his eyes and tries to flatten down his hair where Seven ruffled it. He glances at Saeran, who doesn’t seem at all fazed.

There’s a long silence where they just watch the episode.

“I’ve met weak people,” Saeran finally says. “You don’t feel the same to me.”

“Huh.” Does Saeran really think so? “Thank you.” He turns to smile at him. “Really, I mean it. Thank you so much.”

“Yeah.” Yoosung notices his green eyes flick to look at him for a second before looking back at the screen. “I’m just saying what I see. Nothing special.”

Saeran seems to be brutally honest most of the time, so hearing him say things like that makes Yoosung feel that warmth inside him again. But he doesn’t want to keep fishing for compliments, no matter how good it feels to hear them.

“It feels special to hear you say it,” he says with a shrug, still smiling.

Saeran looks down, seemingly feeling awkward, so Yoosung decides to back off and let Saeran watch the rest of the episode without commenting.

When the next episode starts playing out, Saeran speaks up again. He’s more talkative today, and Yoosung can’t help but feel proud. Saeran’s speaking to _him_. He’s opening up to _him_ , at least a little.

“This place seems… familiar,” he says softly, leaning forward and tilting his head to the side. “Like the place they killed that one big, ugly fuck once.”

“The big, ugly…?” Yoosung looks at him in disbelief, and he can’t help but giggle. “Oh god.”

“Well, am I wrong?” Saeran asks, glancing over at him and smirking. “I can’t remember the name. The juh-something. Juggernaut. Jessica. Jagermeister. I don’t fucking know.”

Yoosung giggles again. “Guess you’re not a total nerd quite yet,” he teases. “But yeah, that’s the place.”

Saeran waves a hand at him. “Not a nerd. Never a nerd. Got an image to maintain, see?” He points to his bleached hair.

“Hmm, sure.” Yoosung raises an eyebrow at him, trying to suppress his grin. “I don’t think having bleached hair means you’re not a nerd. If that were the case, I wouldn’t be one.”

“What?” Saeran squints at Yoosung’s hair in disbelief. “You’re not naturally a blond…?” Yoosung giggles at his confused expression.

“No. I have brown hair.”

“Oh.” Saeran shrugs and turns back to the TV. “Still. Blond isn’t edgy, Yoosung. Blond can be nerdy.”

Yoosung pouts. “Are you saying I’m not edgy?” he says, pretending to be offended. Saeran snickers.

“Definitely not. I don’t think you could be edgy if you tried.”

“Hey!” Yoosung squeaks in protest. “I could if I tried! I just gotta…” he twists his face into an annoyed frown, “do this.”

“No, sorry. That… that doesn’t even count as angry.” He sounds like he’s trying not to laugh. Yoosung frowns harder, but it’s difficult when hearing Saeran’s suppressed laughter just makes him want to grin.

“I’m _so_ angry right now,” he growls. “I hate everyone.”

Saeran huffs out a short laugh. “Not even close. You sounds annoyed, but you just look cute.” Yoosung’s frown turns genuine.

“Ugh, I’m cursed,” he groans dramatically. “Will anyone _ever_ think I’m anything other than cute?”

Saeran raises an eyebrow and studies Yoosung closely for a moment.

“I think… with some practice and maybe a few additions, you could pull off an ‘almost edgy’ look for something like Halloween, if you wanted.”

Yoosung folds his arms and mock-glares at Saeran. “You’re making fun of me again,” he accuses.

“Actually, I’m being completely serious,” Saeran says, raising his hands in front of him as though surrendering. “You just need practice.”

“Oh, really?” Yoosung huffs. “And how exactly does one _practice_ being edgy?”

“Dunno.” Saeran shrugs, dropping his hands. “Came naturally to me, I guess. Go snarl at yourself in the mirror every day or something.”

Yoosung giggles. “Is that what you do?”

“No. I’m just scary by design.” Saeran turns back to the TV, folding his hands over his chest. “You’re not.”

“Hmm.” Yoosung grins and raises his eyebrows at him playfully. “I don’t think you’re scary.”

Saeran looks at him doubtfully. “You should,” he says lowly, narrowing his eyes. “But I imagine these stupid sweaters Saeyoung gave me don’t help…” He looks down at the oversized one he’s wearing, frowning. Huh. Yoosung had figured Saeran had picked those out himself.

“Oh, do you not like them?”

“They’re okay, I guess. Just not really my style.” Saeran takes some of the fabric between his fingers and tugs at it. “But until I can leave freely and go buy my own, I’m stuck.” Yoosung frowns.

“Are you not allowed to leave at all?”

“Not without _him_ ,” Saeran spits out vehemently, casting a venomous glare toward the room Saeyoung had disappeared into. “If I go anywhere I have to be supervised, and even then he usually chooses to leave me at home.”

Yoosung presses a finger to his chin as he thinks. “That’s… that really sucks. But…” Does he dare suggest it? “What about with me?” Saeran’s eyebrows furrow and he looks at Yoosung in confusion. Yoosung wonders if he messed up by saying that.

“What do you mean, with you? Like… _you_ escort me instead?”

“Yeah,” Yoosung says slowly as the idea forms in his head. “You don’t have to, but if you wanted to go somewhere without him, maybe he’d let you go with me.”

Saeran thinks for a moment, clearly considering this carefully.

“It’s… possible. But do you really want to take me somewhere no one might step in if I flip?”

Yoosung pauses, picturing it in his head. “Yeah. I… I think you’ll be okay though,” he says. “Maybe part of the reason you get so…” he gulps, leaving the word unsaid, “is because you’re stuck inside all the time.”

“Maybe.” Saeran shrugs casually, leaning back as though uninterested in this conversation. But he’s replying to him, so that must mean he’s interested, right? “Or maybe it’s because I’m just, you know. A bad person.”

Yoosung mimics Saeran’s shrug. He has to be more careful around this topic this time. “I guess everyone does bad things sometimes,” he says slowly. “But everyone does good things too, even if they don’t always realise.”

Saeran waves his hand dismissively. He doesn’t seem to want to argue this again either. They watch the screen for a few moments.

“Wait, what’s going on with all the Daleks?”

“Oh, agh, we’ve missed a lot. Do you want to start this one again?” Yoosung feels oddly flustered. He isn’t sure why.

“No. I think I caught enough to have a general idea… I’ll figure it out.”

Yoosung nods even though Saeran is too busy staring at the screen to see, and turns back to watch it too. This is an interesting episode, but for some reason he finds himself repeatedly glancing over at Saeran. He’s so focused on what’s happening and it’s… oddly endearing.

The next episode passes, and at some point Saeran repositions so his legs are crossed on the couch in front of him. Sure, he has the whole edgy thing going on, but there’s something else about him… something _cute_.

As soon as the regeneration starts, Yoosung doesn’t take his eyes off him.

Saeran’s mouth falls open. “What? _What?_ ”

He seems really upset, but Yoosung doesn’t want to say anything yet. He watches Saeran as the regeneration comes to an end, and he huffs as he leans back, folding his arms over his chest.

“So what? He’s done now?” he asks in frustration. “One season of him is all we fucking get?”

“Yeah,” Yoosung says slowly. “But the next Doctor is really good too!”

“He’d better be,” Saeran grumbles, squinting at the new face on the screen. “He looks stupid.”

“He’s most people’s favourite,” Yoosung says quickly before pressing his hand against his mouth to suppress a laugh. Saeran’s reaction is actually pretty funny. He’s clearly more invested in this show than he wants to let on.

“Really?” Saeran asks in disbelief. “What was this Doctor’s number? He’s my favourite.”

Yoosung can’t help but giggle. “He’s the only one you’ve watched,” he points out. “He was the ninth Doctor.”

“I don’t care. He’s my favourite.” He looks over at Yoosung. “Who’s yours?”

“That’s a big question,” Yoosung says thoughtfully as he considers it. “Honestly, they’re all really good. I think… Ten is my favourite? Wait! But I also like Eleven. Oh, and Nine, obviously. But now I feel bad for leaving out Twelve…” He pauses. “I don’t know. I think… I think Ten. But I like them all!”

“Okay,” Saeran says slowly. “I’m gonna guess you want me to watch the rest too?”

“Yeah!” Yoosung says enthusiastically. “I mean… if you want to?”

There’s a short pause.

“I guess we can try.”

Yoosung’s smile feels like it could split his face. “Great! But, um… we probably shouldn’t watch it right now. We’ve binge watched a lot already, and I have class tomorrow,” he says regretfully. He pulls out his phone and checks the time. It’s starting to get pretty late. He sighs. “Yeah, I should probably go.”

Saeran shrugs. “Okay. I’ll get idiot to let you out.”

Saeran stands and takes a moment to stretch, and Yoosung stands next to him. He decides to stretch too, and unintentionally clicks his back.

“Ow. Did you hear that?” He grins. “That was loud.”

He looks over at Saeran who looks like he’s cringing slightly. “Yeah, I heard it. You okay?”

“Yeah,” he giggles. He tries to do it again, but it doesn’t work. “Is that an edgy thing to do? Maybe I can learn how to do it more.”

Saeran raises his eyebrows and folds his arms across his chest. “No. That’s not edgy, Yoosung.” He shakes his head and turns to knock on the door Seven is hidden behind. Saeran’s words are negative, but Yoosung knows he saw his lips twitch as though he wanted to smile. Yoosung grins.

“Hmph. I’ll find another way, then.”

The door clicks. Seven must have unlocked it from his room.

“Well, you’re not locked in anymore,” Saeran says as he turns back to Yoosung. Yoosung sighs. It sucks that Saeran can’t leave, and as much as he loves Seven, he can’t help but feel like he’s wrong.

He picks up his bag and glances over at the TV. The disk is still in there, and he hesitates for a moment.

“You can keep it,” he says suddenly as he turns to Saeran. “Not forever, but… we missed some of it from talking. And… and you liked it so much, so…” He pauses. “Yeah. Keep it for a while.”

Saeran blinks at him in surprise.

“Oh, uh, thanks, I guess,” he says awkwardly. Yoosung wonders if anyone’s ever let him borrow anything before. He wonders if anyone’s ever even shown him any type of kindness before. Yoosung wants to change that.

He smiles at him brightly and heads over to the door. “That’s fine! As long as you look after it,” he says lightly. He pulls the door open. “So… um, we should hang out some other time.” He suddenly feels nervous. What if Saeran doesn’t want to?

“Yeah, sure. If you want,” he says shrugging.

“I do!” Yoosung says as he smiles widely. He feels the sudden urge to hug Saeran, but he has a feeling he wouldn’t be ready for that yet, if he ever is. Yoosung steps out the door and turns to face Saeran for a moment. “I’ll text you when I’m free?”

“That’s fine.” Saeran nods and then turns away heading back inside.

“O-okay, um, see you soon,” Yoosung says to Saeran’s back, and he turns and finally walks away.

Saeran’s definitely opening up to him more and more, and just the thought of it makes Yoosung happy. Maybe next time they hang out Saeran will be even less closed off. Yoosung isn’t sure exactly what it is that makes him so determined to be friends with him. Maybe he wants to be the one to show Saeran what kindness is. He wants to help him. Even with Saeran’s determination to push everyone away and be alone, Yoosung knows everyone needs someone.

Maybe Yoosung can be that someone.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Doctor What hangout takes an unexpected turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By StarlingHawke!

** Saeran **

Saeran feels a little conflicted.

It’s only been two days since he hung out with Yoosung and he can’t quite come to terms with how he feels about everything. There’s the ever-present part of him that despises everyone and everything, that jumps in excitement the moment an ounce of discomfort or pain appears on someone’s face due to something he did. The part that wants to stay locked away within his room and avoid humanity while equally wanting to cause as much chaos and destruction as possible.

What’s that quote from that stupid movie Saeyoung made him watch? “Some men just want to watch the world burn.” Yeah. That definitely fits that side of him, the side he still refers to as _Unknown._ The brainwashed, embittered part that his therapist says will take years to rid himself of completely, if he ever truly can.

But there’s the side of him that had been hidden away during the entirety of his experience at Mint Eye, locked in a safebox in the back of his mind where no one - not even that bitch Rika - could touch it. The weak child that he once was, all curiosity and excitement, desiring love and attention. Friendship. Of course that pathetic kid is banging on his cell, yelling at the empty husk of his adult self to _let Yoosung in,_ give him a chance to prove that he really will stick around and be his friend.

Where’s a god damned gag when you need it?

The meds don’t help this. They help muffle the anxiety, bringing it down from a scream to a shouted whisper. They help him sleep (sometimes) and help him stay in control, help him fight off the person he can say with certainty he doesn’t want to be anymore. They stabilize his moods and help food stay down and sometimes help him not hate himself quite as much but they don’t help him decipher the complexity of his feelings.

The eternal labyrinth of emotions and morals, trying to navigate the greyness of what’s right and what’s wrong, of what makes him happy or excited or angry or something else. _That’s_ what he needs help with, but Dr. Park claims it’s a journey he must take on his own. A fucking journey, like he can just pack a bag and skip off into the meadows without a care in the world as he explores his psyche. Like there’s no danger at all, no sinkholes or quicksand or angry mothers coming at him with a lit cigarette in their hand hidden in there somewhere.

It was hard enough to parse how he felt toward Saeyoung but now he has to add his annoyingly cheerful and positive best friend to the list.

Dr. Park had been thrilled to learn that Saeran drew and had encouraged him to use it as a medium to help express himself and even understand how he feels. He doesn’t really get how that would be useful but he does know that it's fucking annoying that everything he draws anymore seems to circle around to Doctor What or Yoosung. Maybe it’s a sky he’s drawing at dusk, the beautiful colors of the clouds relaxing that somehow turns into an alien planet, a man in a leather jacket walking off toward the sunset. Or it could be the studies of human expression that always lead to a face that looks strikingly similar to a blond he knows. He’d asked at his appointment yesterday what that meant and she just smiled, stating that he’s working out what it all _means_ to him.

What it fucking means is that he’s unable to draw a normal picture anymore without turning it into something that reminds him of that stupid kid.

Currently Saeran finds himself staring at the picture of Nine striding toward a tiny Tardis hidden in the corner of the canvas, considering how he got here without realizing it. Saeyoung’s been out all day, leaving nothing but a blissful silence in the bunker that he's been enjoying for a change.

Which means that when his phone goes off it’s loud and the sound bounces off every possible surface, rattling Saeran to his core.

 

**To: Saeran**

**(14:23)** Hi!!!

 **(14:23)** Was wondering if you wanted to hang out again?

 **(14:25)** We could watch the next season of Doctor What!

 

**To: Yoosung**

**(14:27)** Sure. When?

 

**To: Saeran**

**(14:28)** Would Tuesday work again?

 

Tuesday. So in… five days. That gives him some time to work things out.

 

**To: Yoosung**

**(14:30)** That’s fine.

 

**To: Saeran**

**(14:31)** Yay!!! See you then! :)

 

-oOo-

 

When Tuesday arrives, Saeran’s just as conflicted as before - if not more. It’s been five more days of Yoosung cropping up in his art and five more evenings of nightmares depicting Saeran hurting him in various fashions. How in the hell is he supposed to have any idea how to deal with people if his own mind won’t let him figure it out?

Sitting on the couch with his sketchpad on his lap and a box of colored pencils on the table in front of him, Saeran continues to work on a picture of the night sky. He's always had a latent interest in space, but circumstances had always prevented him from exploring it before and now the association with Saeyoung puts him off a bit. Still, as he works on the forest below, he considers Noogling constellations and slipping a few in among the stars. What would it hurt, right?

The click of the door resounds throughout the bunker, a prelude to the text that he knows must be from Yoosung. Saeyoung unlocked it without needing to be asked this time. Narrowing his eyes at the workroom, Saeran wonders if that’s a good or a bad sign. No doubt that he’ll find out eventually.

Bright afternoon light floods the room as the the door opens; apparently Yoosung listened when he told him last time that the door would always be open when he came to visit Saeran. Footsteps alert him to Yoosung’s approach but he doesn’t make any move to put down his pencil, instead leaning over it a little more to hopefully shield it from prying eyes.

“Oh! You’re drawing again. That’s so cool!” Tan chinos come into view as Yoosung walks around the couch and drops his bag next to Saeran. “I’ll stick in Doctor What. Hey, I really love that drawing you did of Nine and Billie, by the way. I wish I could draw that well!"

Oh, right. Saeran had forgotten he’d texted Yoosung that. He sighs as the sound of a zipper grinds out next to him followed by shuffling noises while Yoosung looks for the case. "You could if you wanted," Saeran says slowly, trying to avoid acknowledging the compliment given to him. Typically he doesn’t show anyone his art for a multitude of reasons - a major one having to do with how personal it feels - but he also has no idea how to respond to positive feedback. Or any feedback, really.

"All it takes is practice." Shrugging, Saeran focuses on adding rough details to the tops of the trees. "Just start working on it and eventually you'll be good."

"Hmm, I don't know if I have the patience for that." Saeran glances up to see Yoosung retrieve the DVD case and grin at him triumphantly. "I tend to switch between hobbies, so I'm not particularly good at anything. Just kind of... average at most things." He shrugs and heads over to the television.

“...okay.” Unsure what else to say, Saeran glances down at his lap, tapping the eraser of his pencil lightly against the paper. “I’m gonna draw while we watch.” Something hits him on the back of the head and he stares in confusion at the wadded up piece of paper that tumbles to his lap for a moment before turning around to see Saeyoung grinning at him, hands in the pockets of his jacket. Rolling his eyes, Saeran looks back at the paper, prodding it open to read “just letting you know I’m leaving” right as he hears the door softly shut. A quick glance at Yoosung shows he didn’t notice. Saeran shoves the paper in his own pocket.

"Ooh, nice. Will you let me see it? You don't have to." The whir of the DVD player is followed by the soft sound of a disc being placed in the tray.

Saeran chews on the inside of his cheek as he considers the question. Yoosung gave him an easy out and normally Saeran would refuse, but… with them sitting on the couch together, it’s sort of unavoidable for Yoosung to catch a glance. It would be better to just outright give him permission. “Yeah, I guess. If you want.”

"What're you drawing?" Yoosung bounces back over to the couch, a wide grin encompassing his face. He’s such a ball of energy. Where does he get - and keep - all of that energy? Flopping on the couch, Yoosung flashes that bright smile his way, and once again Saeran feels like it could blind him.

There’s not really any other choice but to show Yoosung the drawing. Saeran’s starting to apply color to the trees, but for the most part, it’s still in its sketch stage. Yoosung stares at the drawing for a moment. "Wow," he breathes. "I don't know much about art, but... wow."

 _Wow?_ Flabbergasted, Saeran slowly puts it back in his lap, looking away to hide the way his cheeks heat. "It's just the sky and some trees," he mumbles under his breath, grabbing the remote and turning the television on.

"It's good, though," Yoosung insists. "Really good. How often do you draw?"

Shrugging casually, Saeran looks down, hoping his hair disguises the increasing redness of his face. "I draw everyday. Sometimes all day. Just depends on my mood, l guess."

"That's really cool. I wish I had something like that I could do. Maybe you could teach me?"

 _Teach?_ Saeran bites his lip and glances at Yoosung, unsure. Is he joking or serious? "...maybe. But you'd have to be willing to put time into it when you're not with me."

"Hmm. I mean, I'd definitely try." Yoosung’s voice is laced with honesty and Saeran sighs.

"I'll think about it." Him, a teacher? Saeran's not sure he's cut out to instruct someone just starting to learn something. Too rude, too impatient, too… unstable. But Yoosung seems eager and possibly compliant enough that it just might work. _Might_. "But... not right now. I need to finish this drawing first."

Yoosung nods. "Yeah, of course. And we gotta watch this!" he says, gesturing towards the screen.

Saeran's eyes flick back to the screen where the new Doctor is... apparently passed out. "Right. Yeah," he says flatly, unable to inject any enthusiasm into his tone. "The new guy."

"Hey," Yoosung protests. "Don't sound so bored of him! You haven't even watched it yet."

It doesn’t take long to form an opinion, and right now, Saeran is incredibly unimpressed. "He's not even awake right now. It's just Billie and... Jacie."

"I thought you liked Billie?!"

"I do like Billie, just..." How to word? Saeran pauses to consider what he's trying to say. "...I want the Doctor as well."

Obviously frustrated, Yoosung swings his gaze back to the screen, brows drawn.. "Well... the Doctor's still there! He's just... he's just not doing anything right now. Just give it a chance." A note of whininess creeps into his voice toward the end. Why is this such a big deal to him?

"I don't like Jacie," Saeran states in a tone brooking no room for argument. "And I'm not so sure about Rickey. He's... annoying. But… I'll keep watching." _For you,_ he doesn’t say. Yoosung just seems so desperate for him to like this Doctor. It’s kind of pathetic, honestly… and yet Saeran feels a strange desire to make him happy.

"Hmph. Fine." Turning away, Yoosung crosses his arms and leans back on the couch sullenly, pouting. "If you don't like Ten then I'm going to leave," he mumbles.

 _What are we, five years old?_ "Seriously?" Raising an eyebrow, Saeran glances at him, unable to decide if this new development is amusing or annoying. Maybe a little of both. "Don't be like that."

Sinking lower into the couch, Yoosung’s voice is grumpy when he responds. "I'll be how I want to be. I just really want you to like him!"

"Why?" Saeran stares at Yoosung, utterly baffled. Why does this matter so much to him? "Because he's your favorite?"

"Well... yeah..." Yoosung says, then shrugs. "I... I dunno! I just hope you like all the Doctors!"

"Hmm. Well, I guess we'll see." There’s no way Saeran’s going to commit to liking someone when he knows there’s a good chance he won’t. He flicks his eyes to the screen for a moment before focusing back on the pad in his lap. About half of the trees have the base color down. He should have the rest done by the time this episode is over, even with him splitting his attention as much as he is.

For the most part he keeps any comments to himself after that, unsure if Yoosung was teasing him or not and not wanting to somehow make things worse. But he can't hold back his sass forever, especially not when he sees the Doctor's eyes open. "Oh, finally, he's awake."

Saeran catches Yoosung glancing at him from the corner of his eye as he responds. "You don't sound very interested.”

"Well, he has been asleep this whole time so that's not exactly impress...ive..." Saeran trails off as the Doctor speaks, recognition shooting through him. "Is he... is he quoting The Lion King?" Seconds after Saeran asks, the Doctor answers the question for him. Watching the ensuing battle with interest, Saeran leans forward, suddenly more invested. "...maybe he'll be okay." Not that he has any plans to admit it, but The Lion King is one of Saeran’s favorite movies.

Yoosung giggles almost giddily. "I told you! He's actually really good! Otherwise why would he be most people's favorite?"

"Because they don't see how awesome Nine is," Saeran snarks back with an amused huff. "He's _obviously_ the best."

An over-dramatic sigh comes from beside him. "I'm not arguing with you when you haven't even properly watched Ten!"

"Look, Ten just lost a hand!" Saeran gestures at the TV, lips twitching as he holds back his smirk. At this point the debate is purely a game and he's intentionally trying to provoke Yoosung, just for shits and giggles. "Nine never had that happen! He's obviously superior."

"No!!" Yoosung squeals, huffing in frustration. "He... he just... just watch! He's really good, I swear!"

The corners of Saeran’s lips curl in amusement. This is too fun. "You're really easy to mess with," he comments offhandedly, snickering.

Freezing with a hand in his hair, Yoosung frowns. "You... ugh," he grunts, folding his arms across his chest defensively. "That's not true."

"It is." _God, he’s cute._ ...uh? Where did _that_ thought come from? Saeran blinks in surprise, scratching at his arm and looking away. ”I'll stop if you’re gonna pout, though."

A beat of silence passes before Yoosung continues, his voice back to his normal cheerful tone. "I don't care if you mess with me, just as long as you like Ten.” Was Yoosung messing with _Saeran_ all along? Is the kid actually better at knowing when he’s being teased than he lets on?

But that statement… there’s too much potential there. Saeran laughs darkly, unable to help himself. "So if I say I like Ten, I can mess with you? In any way I want, or is there a line?"

"Um... I don't know.” There’s a note of hesitation in Yoosung’s voice and something else… something Saeran’s not quite able to identify. “Just... just don't make me angry! I'm super scary when I'm angry."

"Not if your anger is anything like your edginess." It’s hard to picture Yoosung angry. It’s likely just as scary as a small puppy snarling; still cute, still easy to handle if one knows what they’re doing. "I'm not sure there's a thing you could do to make me scared of you anyway."

"Hmm, if you ever make me angry and I scare you, don't say I didn't warn you." There’s a small smile on Yoosung’s face, almost like he’s confident in his warning. Saeran still doesn’t buy it.

"I'll keep that in mind," he answers with a shrug, a smile ghosting across his lips. They finish the rest of the episode in silence. When the credits start to roll, Saeran takes a moment to stretch his wrists. "Is he awake in the next episode, at least?"

Yoosung gives him a disapproving look. "Stop asking questions! Just watch!"

"Fine, fine!" Raising in his hands in defeat, Saeran chuckles, one corner of his lip curled in amusement. "I'll try to be quiet."

Unfolding his arms, Yoosung grins and bites his lip, turning his attention back to the TV. "Good.”

Saeran keeps slowly working on his picture, eyes trained on the tv most of the time. This one is in space at least, on a new planet. That makes it at least ten times more interesting to Saeran and he pays close attention, cringing in disgust when none other than Cassidy shows up. Of course she couldn’t stay gone.

He nearly jumps out of his skin when Yoosung asks, "so... uh, what do you think of Ten so far?"

This feels like a loaded question. "He's... energetic," Saeran says carefully. It’s been tougher to form a solid opinion on this Doctor than he’d thought it would be. Any time he thinks he's about to form a decision, something happens that makes him reconsider.

Yoosung raises an eyebrow. "Energetic? Is that good or bad?"

"No idea yet." Raising a shoulder in a half-hearted shrug, Saeran squints at the TV. "But I see that fucker Cassidy is back."

"Yep. Your favourite character~" Yoosung teases with a grin.

"You know me so well," Saeran deadpans. Carding his hands through his hair, Saeran cocks his head to the side in confusion when Cassidy does something rather… unexpected. "What's up with that kiss, though?"

"Dunno. Just watch!"

Of course. Rolling his eyes, Saeran huffs in irritation. "So what... you can ask me questions but I can't ask you?"

"I... I..." Saeran almost laughs when Yoosung stumbles over his words, obviously caught off guard. "I just don't want to spoil anything! If you keep asking me to talk about it, I probably won't be able to stop."

...okay. Saeran doesn’t get it. "I don't see how me asking about a kiss would spoil anything. Just curious." The idea of the kiss rolls around in his head for a while as he watches the characters make their way around the hospital. "I don't really understand the appeal of it."

"Of kissing?" The words come out as more of a squeak than anything else. "Well... uh... I guess it feels nice? Like you're close to someone you like."

"Hmm." Saeran’s held interest in people before, but it’s always been purely sexual. With his emotions kept locked away there hasn’t ever been a chance for anything romantic to develop and he’s never seen the point of kissing even as a type of build-up to the more fun things. "Never wanted to kiss anyone. Have you?" He turns his gaze to Yoosung, curious.

"I... I mean, yeah. But I haven't ever actually... you know. Done it." A pink tint crosses his cheeks, growing darker with each passing second.

"You're blushing. Why?" Cocking his head to the side, Saeran scans Yoosung's face to try to work out what the kid is feeling. "Because you've never kissed anyone? Neither have I."

Yoosung presses his palms to his cheeks, apparently embarrassed. "I don't know! I... I guess so." It’s safe to call his face red now.

Never been kissed and acting as though it’s a reason to be ashamed… Well. The seedling of an idea grows in Saeran's mind and he grins wickedly. Never let it be said that Saeran Choi doesn’t have a sense of humor, even if his is far, far different from his brother. Just how flustered will this suggestion make Yoosung? He's curious enough to find out. "Well, if neither of us have ever experienced a kiss before," he says slowly, lips curling into a smirk, "maybe we should kiss each other to try it."

 **"** What?!" Somehow Yoosung’s blush darkens further as he squeaks out that single word, looking like he’s about to choke on his tongue. "W-why would we do that?!"

That reaction only eggs Saeran on. "To see what it's like." Placing his pencil down, Saeran leans toward Yoosung, eyes flashing mischievously. "I'm curious. Aren't you?"

"I... well... yeah, but I..." Stammering, Yoosung glances around them like he’s in a sort of panic. "I... we're both guys?!"

"Yes, we are." Saeran knows he could probably push this further, maybe even manage to get Yoosung to kiss him, but he's not his brother. One of them has to know where to draw the line. "Don't worry about it. I don't actually want to kiss you. Or anyone, for that matter." He shrugs, sitting back and running fingers along the seam of his jeans. "Not my thing."

Yoosung sags in what Saeran can only guess is relief. "H-how do you know?" he asks, running his fingers through his hair. "I mean... if you've never actually tried it?"

Saeran chuckles lowly. Some of the blood gathered in Yoosung’s face is starting to retreat, but not for long. "There's better things to do with mouths," he answers casually. "Things that cause more pleasure than slurping spit."

"What do you mean? Like... eating ice cream?"

"Sure." That suggestion causes Saeran to briefly considers getting some ice cream. Maybe after this episode is done. "Or sucking someone off."

Yoosung audibly chokes, his face flaming even redder than before. "Wh-what?" he splutters.

God, this kid gives such good reactions. No wonder idiot likes to tease him. “You heard me. What's wrong, never thought about someone doing that for you?"

"Saeran!" Yoosung squeaks, slamming a hand over his mouth, eyes large as saucers. "I...I've never even kissed anyone before!"

"Yes, well, I offered to help with that one, didn't I? Even though it's not what I'd prefer to do," Saeran trails off suggestively, turning back to the TV. "Suppose I should be paying attention to this."

"Y-you...?" Yoosung trails off, quiet for a moment. "I... you can't just… _say_ things like that!"

"I just did." Snickering, Saeran continues to face forward but looks at Yoosung from the corner of his eyes. "Why? Something wrong?"

Saeran’s casual response only seems to cause Yoosung to become more flustered and he quickly hides behind his hands. "Oh my _God_ , Saeran. You... you..."

"You're awfully embarrassed about this, Yoosung," Saeran says in amusement. "What's there to be embarrassed about? Just two guys talking about guy things. No need to blush." Okay, so Saeran may not know much about normal conversations but he knows enough to know this isn't one. Especially not after offering Yoosung a kiss, no matter how joking it was. But he's enjoying this. Plus, seeing Yoosung blush from something _he_ said causes some weird sort of bubbling feeling in his stomach. Weird, but pleasant. Enough so that he wants to keep seeing that blush.

"I... I just..." The look Yoosung shoots Saeran is accusing. "Why aren't _you_ embarrassed? You said you'd never kissed anyone either!"

"And?" There’s obviously a connection Yoosung’s trying to draw, but Saeran doesn’t see it.”Why would I be embarrassed about never having kissed anyone? I could've but I never wanted to, so I didn't."

"No! No... I mean... about talking about... about _that_."

Ah. It clicks and Saeran actually laughs quietly. "Sucking someone's dick? I'm not embarrassed because it's something I _wanted_ to do." At first he’d thought it was an act for attention, but Yoosung really seems to be innocent and Saeran finds it both hilarious and annoying. "It's not that big of a deal."

Yoosung looks at Saeran, shock written across his features. "You... you wanted to?"

"...yeah?" Saeran’s brows dip in confusion. "Why else would I do it?"

"Do... you've _done_ it?" Yoosung asks, voice colored with disbelief.

Okay, this kid is supposed to be smart, right? Why is it taking him so long to catch onto the obvious? Saeran sighs, bored. "That's what I said."

Yoosung’s face contorts in a manner that Saeran guesses is supposed to be hiding his shock but is failing terribly. "I... I didn't expect that," he mumbles, turning back to the screen.

The wording catches Saeran by surprise and anger flares to life inside of him suddenly, clawing at him like a caged animal. "What exactly _did_ you expect?" Narrowing his eyes, Saeran's gaze changes to one of intense scrutiny. "Did you think you had me figured out? Trust me, kid, I'm not like anyone else you've ever met. I'm beyond fucked up and it's only a matter of time before you decide I'm not worth your time, too."

Yoosung’s head snaps over to look at Saeran. "No... I... that's not what I meant. I just didn't realise you... you liked guys. I didn't... I didn't think I had you figured out or anything." A pause before Yoosung continues, "and I don't think that'll ever happen. I like hanging out with you."

 _Yeah, right._ Saeran can’t believe him, won’t let himself believe him. "You will. Everyone always does." Turning away, his eyes are unfocused as he stares in the direction of the tv. "And yes. I 'like' guys." 

“Hm," Yoosung hums softly. "Well, I don't think I will. I don't plan on it."

With a shrug, Saeran spares a glance at the drawing in his lap. Its peacefulness only infuriates him now. Forcing himself to be more gentle than he feels, he picks up the pad and closes it, depositing it along with the pencils on the end table. Restless and with no other outlet, he starts peeling the black paint off his nails while trying to focus on the show. Saeran groans when he realizes how much they missed by talking. "Can you tell me what happened or should we go back?"

"We can skip back." It sounds forced, a fact which makes Saeran feel… conflicted, again. He watches as Yoosung rewinds the episode to where they were before. "I'm sorry," Yoosung says quietly out of the blue.

"Sorry? For what?" Saeran asks, glancing at Yoosung in confusion. It’s not like Yoosung has any control over the volatile nature of Saeran’s emotions. It’s not even like Saeran’s current bout of anger is directed at him specifically.

"Just... for... in case I made you angry or anything," Yoosung mumbles, refusing to meet Saeran’s eye. "It's fine. Don't worry about it." 

Saeran observes Yoosung for a moment, his own expression neutral. "You're strange," he says, unable to make sense of anything Yoosung does. "Always apologizing. Always worried about what I think of you. Why?"

Finally Yoosung glances at Saeran. "I just... I don't want you to think I'm... I don't know. Trying to be mean or anything." He shrugs, and then mumbles under his breath, "I want you to like me."

"Are you even able to be mean?" Saeran muses out loud, fingers moving on to tap on his leg to rid himself of this excess energy. "You're too much like an eager puppy. I don't like anyone. Not even cute puppies like you."

Yoosung’s eyes widen fractionally and hurt flashes across his face. "Oh. Huh. Okay," he says, turning back to the screen quickly.

"It's nothing personal," Saeran continues, ignoring that particular reaction. "After you live my life, you learn not to trust anyone."

A scowl forms on Yoosung’s face and he folds his arms over his chest, harrumphing at the TV. "That's stupid," he says bitterly. "What's the point in life if you hate everyone? Why am I even here?"

The anger inside of Saeran takes a nosedive straight into the pool of self-hatred, the two combining to cause his heart to overflow with his own bitterness. "What's the point indeed," Saeran agrees in a dangerously quiet tone, but he's not looking at Yoosung; he's glaring at the door to the workroom. "Strip away the drugs, the brainwashing and the lies and you'd _think_ you'd find someone fucking decent underneath, right? Or someone at least happy to be alive." A dark laugh erupts from him as he shakes his head and combs through his hair aggressively. "Not me. I know I'm too fucked for this world, Yoosung. I know I don't belong. But _he_ won't let me leave it." Picking up an empty glass from earlier, Saeran hurls it full-force at the door, glass shattering and spraying everywhere. He ignores the yelp of surprise from next to him. "He forces me to live as a bitter, twisted, hateful thing. Just fucking let me go. Just let me go..." It’s all muscle memory by this point from hours and hours of having to try to comfort himself, so before he knows it he's curled into himself sobbing, arms wrapped around his legs and head buried in his knees. 

A shuffling sound comes from next to him, the couch dipping slightly. "Saeran? I... I didn't... that's not what I meant." Yoosung pauses and exhales softly. "I think there can be someone decent underneath if you... if you look hard enough. And, I get it, the world's really shit. Trust me, I know. But the only thing you can do is keep going. If you quit, you never know what might happen. Whether things will get better. And don't say they won't, because you can't know that for sure."

"After 21 miserable years, you think I dare allow myself any hope?" Saeran hates how his voice cracks, hates how it shakes and how he's uncontrollably sobbing but he can't seem to make it stop. "Do you know that you're the nicest person I've ever met? The only one to treat me like I'm a person and not some fucking waste of space, a mistake, an error that can't be fixed?" God, this whole situation is fucked, he’s so fucked up that he can’t even be kind to someone going out of his way to show him kindness. Dropping his hand from his leg, Saeran starts grasping at the air around him until his fingers brush against Yoosung's shirt. He curls them into the fabric and yanks him close, so close that when Saeran lifts his head and turns to look at him their noses almost touch. "The one person to give me the one thing I always wanted and yet I still can't bring myself to even consider the possibility that you might be different from the rest." Letting go, he drops his eyes to the sides, ignoring the tears that fall as he shrinks back into himself. "Why are you here? Because I'm fucking lonely and I can't stand anyone else."

"Then I'll stay as long as you need me," Yoosung whispers, and Saeran flinches slightly when he feels a hand land on his shoulder. "I didn't mean to... make you cry, I just..." There’s a small pause. "Can I hug you? You can say no."

Yoosung's hand on his shoulder doesn't elicit the pain that often accompanies touch. If anything, it feels... comforting.  
  
Saeran doesn't deserve comfort.  
  
"I don't deserve to be touched by someone as good as you," he whispers.

Saeran stiffens as arms slowly make their way around him. Not hesitant, just careful, as though Yoosung wants to give Saeran the chance to pull away or push him off. Mind whirling and not used to so much contact in a way other than negative, Saeran's at a loss for how he should react. Should he be mad and shove at Yoosung to get him to leave him alone? Is this some sort of manipulation attempt, like how the Savior used to hug him when she wanted something or how Saeyoung does it when _he_ feels bad?

No, this is Yoosung. He's just trying to be nice. Saeran _should_ pull away, should force Yoosung off of him and maybe even make him leave so that he doesn't somehow become tainted by the rottenness Saeran exudes, but he doesn't have to strength for that right now. Yoosung tightens his arms, holding him closer. Saeran can smell him, can smell vanilla and a slightly sweet aroma he can't place. It's far more comforting than it should be.

Slowly, hesitantly, Saeran slips one of his arms around Yoosung, then the other. A true hug, one without strings attached. He's received so many of these from Saeyoung since his arrival at the bunker but he's never once returned them. This is a new experience.

It's more than a little startling to find that he likes it.  
  
"Why are you being so kind?" he blurts out, an edge of panic to his voice. This is wrong, it's all _wrong_ because he doesn't deserve this, not Yoosung's care or or or good intentions, he's dirty, spoiled, rotten to his core. Yoosung is pure, bright, a star meant to be observed and left unsullied by someone like-

“I want to help.” Yoosung's voice cuts through the thoughts dashing around in Saeran's mind. "And... I like you."

Saeran laughs, a sad sound, confusion, disbelief and bitterness echoing through the hollowness of it. "Who could ever like someone like me?"

The intensity of the hug increases. "Me," Yoosung says quietly, one hand moving softly up and down Saeran's back. A motion meant to comfort.

"You're so weird," Saeran mumbles. "Very strange to waste your time and kindness on a mistake like me." The hug is, surprisingly, calming him down far more than he'd ever thought it could. It's surprising how nice Yoosung feels in his arms, like he fits there perfectly and no, no, hell no.

That last thought is a cold splash of water to the face, startling Saeran. He shoves Yoosung off quickly, albeit gentler than he might've before. "I don't do hugs," he mutters, frustrated when it comes out with far less of a bite than he'd meant. He almost sounds… _friendly_ and that just won't do. 

Yoosung goes with little resistance. "I like hugs. Maybe... you'll like them too if you give them a chance?"

Saeran narrows his eyes at Yoosung suspiciously. Could he possibly know that Saeran had actually enjoyed that? No, impossible. Yoosung can't read his mind. "It's not a matter of liking or disliking them," he says, bringing up a hand to wipe away the wetness clinging to his eyes. "I don't touch people."

A small frown crops up on Yoosung’s face at Saeran’s words. "Why not?" he asks quietly. 

Shrugging, Saeran sighs softly.  "Not a fan of it. And sometimes it hurts." Maybe his general aversion to it has to do with his childhood; he knew so little of what a friendly touch was. Or maybe he would've always been this way, maybe the sensory part of it was something he was born with. God knows Saeyoung stills loves to touch anyone at any given opportunity, much to Saeran’s annoyance. "Just always been like this."

"If it hurts, that's... that's not a hug," Yoosung says slowly, obviously a little confused. 

"No, no, you don't get it." Saeran sighs and grabs a lock of his hair, tugging at it while debating whether or not it's worth it to explain it or not. May as well try. "It's a... I think the people at the hospital called it a sensory thing. Sometimes I can't handle any touch because it hurts. When I get like that, you could just brush against me and it'd feel like you cut me or something. I dunno. I'm not good at explaining it."

"Oh..." There’s still confusion on Yoosung’s face but Saeran can tell he’s processing what he said and what it means. "That's... that really sucks. But was my hug okay? I... I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Yeah, you're fine." Saeran waves off Yoosung's concerns. "Your touch didn't bring any pain, only comf..." _Shit._ Coughing suddenly when he realizes what he’s about to say, Saeran quickly cuts himself off. "It's fine."

With a small smile, Yoosung leans back. "Okay, I'm glad. Are... are you feeling okay now?" 

"About as okay as I'm gonna get." No longer in the mood to watch television, Saeran stands, scooping up his sketchpad and pencils. Residual anger is bubbling inside of him like a poison, a viper ready to strike. He needs to get rid of it before he does something he’ll regret. "You wanna draw? I need to for a bit. We can watch more later." Without waiting for a response, he turns and hurries toward his room, barely hearing Yoosung’s quiet affirmation.

Pushing open the door, he tosses his stuff haphazardly on the bed before hovering by the desk, waiting for Yoosung to enter. "You can sit at the desk," he says, motioning the moment Yoosung crosses the threshold. "What kind of things do you wanna draw?" Which drawer did he put the spare book in? Ah, right. Pulling open the rightmost top drawer, Saeran digs a little before pulling out a smaller version of the one he uses and dropping it on the surface without a care. 

"Oh, uh..." Yoosung sits down, looking a little flustered. "I... I guess I'd like to be able to draw people."

"Okay." Saeran grabs a pencil from a cup in the corner, fishes an eraser out of the same drawer and hands them to Yoosung. "There's many different ways to do it. I'll show you the one I started with but eventually I moved on from when I got more comfortable. Got anyone in particular you want to draw?"

"Um..." Yoosung’s eyes look up to the side as he thinks. "How about... my cousin, Rika?" 

Saeran freezes at the name, hands slowly curling into fists. Of _course_ he’d pick her, the damn kid idolizes her. He should’ve known. "Draw a circle where you want her head to be," he grits out between clenched teeth, turning away for a moment to regain control. This is not helping, but Yoosung doesn't know. Deep breaths. Yoosung definitely doesn't deserve his anger over this. Forcing himself to focus on his breathing for a moment, Saeran tries to reign in the burst of anger he’d felt from hearing that name. His eyes fall upon the book he’d tossed on his bed and he grabs it, taking up a pencil and scribbling on the first blank page he finds without any real plan. The only thing he cares about is transferring this anger, this _pain_ from inside to the paper where it won’t hurt him anymore.

For a while there’s silence except for the directions Saeran spits out when prompted and the scratching of pencils on paper, Yoosung’s soft and hesitant, Saeran’s forceful and desperate. Even through his own haze of emotion, Saeran can tell how hard Yoosung is trying. It makes him feel a little less like a piece of shit for suddenly ripping them away from the show without giving Yoosung a choice in the matter. But he knows if he hadn’t, if he’d stayed and tried to force himself to keep watching, he would’ve exploded and possibly spiraled downward into a worse place. It needed to be done. 

Yoosung hasn’t really been responding to his directions other than with the occasional “okay,” so Saeran jumps when he speaks out of the blue. "You're a good teacher," Yoosung mumbles, hunched over in concentration.

Saeran freezes for a second time, the compliment bouncing around in his head, an unexpected but not altogether unwelcome visitor. "Uh, thanks. You're a... good student," he says awkwardly, scratching his head. How does one respond appropriately to this? God, he’s so far out of his comfort zone it’s not funny.

Noises of frustration catch his attention a few minutes later. Standing, Saeran peeks over Yoosung’s shoulder and shakes his head. "No, not quite like that. You're going to want to move your hand more like this…” Placing his pad on the desk, he demonstrates on his own darkened sheet, watching to make sure Yoosung's paying attention. "And try to move more from your elbow than your wrist. It'll flow more smoothly and won't hurt your hand as much."

"Elbow, right." Yoosung nods, bending back over the paper, tongue just barely visible between his lips as he concentrates on attempting to emulate Saeran’s movement. It’s cute.

Saeran has to stop himself from groaning at the thought.

 The movements are better, but there’s still something too stiff there. Leaning over, Saeran analyzes the way Yoosung is sitting, how his arm and hand falls on the desk, how he’s holding the pencil… ah. “Don’t grip the pencil like you’re writing a letter,” he scolds lightly, dropping his own to grab hold of Yoosung’s hand and forcing the webbing between his thumb and pointer finger apart. As soon as they touch, a weird sort of thrill shoots through him. Blinking in confusion, Saeran tugs the pencil into a little better position and mumbles to loosen his grip a little bit as he lets go. His palm still feels hot. Is this a new addition to his touch issues? Should he be concerned?  
  
He pulls himself together enough to eke out, "try that."

“Okay, thank you," Yoosung says quietly.

Saeran's own urge to draw evaporated the moment he touched Yoosung, replaced with a lot of new and confusing desires and emotions he's not quite sure how to handle. "Uh. Now you can work on her face. Um. The lines we drew earlier..." In a halting voice, he goes on to explain how to position the eyes, nose and mouth. Biting his lip, Saeran purposefully allows their hands to brush again, just to see if it produces the same effect.  
  
It does.

At that moment, Saeran decides to avoid touching Yoosung Kim at all costs.

"You can do the hair now," Saeran says quietly. "Just try to keep the lines smooth and flowing and draw it how you remember h-her hair to be. You can't really draw hair wrong." It feels like his hand is still tingling, still hot. What does it mean?

"Knowing me, I probably can," Yoosung says lightly, sketching some lines in a decent attempt at Rika’s hair.

Raising an eyebrow, Saeran huffs out a short laugh. "I'll actually be impressed if you manage that. Looks like you're doing fine so far." As Yoosung continues to work on the Sa - Rika's - hair, Saeran turns away, needing something to distract himself from thoughts of _her._ Casting about in his mind for a subject, any subject, he latches onto the first thing that crops up. "Why'd you bleach your hair?"

"Oh... uh... it was to get a girlfriend," Yoosung answers softly, laughing. "It didn't work, obviously. And... I guess it was something to remember Rika by, too."

Well, that was the wrong question to ask. Saeran's hands fly up to his hair and knot themselves it it, allowing him to tug at it a few times to try to anchor himself with the pain. Why is everything against him today? "Why do you want a girlfriend so badly?" Another attempt to change the subject, to distract himself. "What's so great about a relationship?"

"I guess I've just never had one. It's... I don't know. Lonely."

Lonely. Yoosung is lonely, and he thinks having a _girlfriend_ will help. Stupid. "Doesn't have to be for someone like you," Saeran says, turning to look at Yoosung out of the corner of his eyes. "You're friendly, fun, nice. You could have a lot of friends. Dunno why you don't have a girlfriend, honestly, since you're pretty cute, too."

Yoosung looks up at Saeran, surprise flitting across his face. "I... I don't know," he says slowly. "I mean, some girls have asked me out but... none that I'm really interested in." With a small cringe, he shakes his head. "That sounds mean. But... I dunno."

Saeran shrugs in an overly casual manner. "Don't see how that's mean. If you're not interested, you're not interested." He walks back over to gauge Yoosung’s progress. There's a little bit of a hair flip he missed in the front but Saeran bites his tongue so he doesn't say anything. That’s a can of worms he doesn’t want to open today. "When you're done with the sketch, we can outline it. Or be done for today, whatever you want."

"Oh... um, I can try outlining it?" Yoosung asks, hope permeating his voice. 

"Yeah." Saeran walks over and opens the middle drawer, grabbing a thin black marker and handing it to him. "Trace over your best lines." 

Despite the fact that he’d asked for it, Yoosung stares at the marker apprehensively before taking it from Saeran gingerly. "Thanks," he mumbles. Uncapping it, he lets it hover over the paper for a few moments. "I guess I just feel bad for saying it like that. I wish I were interested in some of them, but I guess there's no use trying to force it." Pulling his bottom lip between his teeth, Yoosung presses the marker to the page carefully. 

"Huh." There's another option here, one Yoosung is either resolutely ignoring or hasn't thought of. With how naive he is, Saeran’s willing to bet it's the latter. "Ever considered the possibility that maybe you're just not interested in girls?"

Yoosung pauses, lifting the marker off of the paper before answering. "What do you mean?"

"Exactly what I said.” Bored, Saeran picks at his cuticles. Innocent or not, there's no way Yoosung isn't understanding his point. "Maybe you want to like girls but you don't. Perhaps you like guys. Or no one at all."

"Guys? I... I don't think I've ever..." A beat of silence passes. "I've... I've had crushes before on... on girls." Saeran looks up in time to catch a hint of a blush before Yoosung dips his head to continue drawing. "Just none of them ever asked me out."

"You could make the first move, you know," Saeran points out. "It doesn't have to be them."

Yoosung casts a sheepish smile at Saeran. "Oh, I've tried," he says. "But I... I'm not that great at taking the lead. I like being…" Panic flashes across Yoosung's face and he hurriedly adds on, "they've all said no."

"...that sucks." Shrugging, Saeran looks at his sweater, picking off stray white hairs. Why are they talking about Yoosung's love life? It's not like _Saeran_ has any interest in or experience with dating. How'd they get here...? Oh, right, distraction.  
  
"So you're lonely but picky. At least you have your pride, not desperate enough to date just anyone," Saeran snickers.

"I'm getting there," Yoosung jokes, but there's an undertone that rings true. "I'm twenty years old and I've never dated anyone." He pauses, then giggles. "Actually, I dated this girl when I was like eight for two days, but I don't think that counts. Even though we 'got married'." Raising his hands, Yoosung makes air quotes before returning to outlining.

Saeran snorts in amusement. "Yeah, no." The very idea of marriage is horrifying to Saeran; being in a position like that, tying yourself to someone, willingly giving them that much power to hurt you? He'll take a hard pass. "How're your lines coming?"

"I... I think they're okay. I haven't messed any of them up yet." Holding his hand out in front of him, Yoosung frowns. "My hand's really shaky, though, and I'm not sure why." 

"Hmm." Stepping closer, Saeran looks critically at Yoosung's hand, eyes combing over the palm, fingers, wrist, arm. "You weren't so shaky earlier. Maybe you need a break. Does your wrist hurt at all?"

Yoosung drops his hand back to the desk. "No, it doesn't," he says, looking at it in confusion.

Without a thought toward his decision of moments before, Saeran reaches out to grasp Yoosung's wrist, pulling it closer to look at it. Sometimes he can tell when his own are overworked by feeling for tenderness or heat. He manages to rub his thumb over it once before a spike of heat rushes through him and he drops it as though burnt, pulling his hand back to his chest. What the hell? "I don't know what's wrong then," he says slowly, backing away.

Yoosung looks at Saeran with wide eyes. "Are you okay?" he asks, worry filling his voice.

"Yeah, just... that... touch thing I mentioned earlier is acting up, I think," Saeran says cautiously, rubbing his own wrist absently. "It's just never felt quite like that before."

"Oh." Yoosung looks down at his hand with a strange expression on his face. Awe? No, that's not quite right. "That's weird. I... I guess I'll just try not to touch you."

"Yeah," Saeran says distractedly, rubbing his palm against his pant leg to try to chase away the lingering feeling of Yoosung’s skin against his. A quiet alarm in ringing in the back of his mind, trying to alert him to the fact that this doesn't seem like his typical issues with touch. He resolutely ignores it. 

"Okay, well... um..." Yoosung fidgets in the seat before capping the marker and sitting it down. "I guess I should take a break. Maybe my hand will be fine in a bit."

"Should we watch more Doctor What?" Saeran suggests, at a loss for what else to do.

"Sure!" Yoosung stands with a nod, hovering by Saeran as though waiting for directions.

Fuck this weird shit. Saeran's ready for something he knows won't let him down or make him feel strange. "I'm going to get some ice cream. Want some?" Saeran asks, already halfway out the door.

Quick footsteps tell him Yoosung's following. "Okay, sure.” He veers off in the direction of the couch where a soft thud can be heard. 

Someday his hair is likely to fall out between the combination of constantly being bleached and tugged on, but thankfully today is not that day. Twining his fingers in it, Saeran pulls at it in frustration as he enters the kitchen. This is all so _weird,_ Yoosung is _weird_ and it's making him feel _weird_ and he doesn't like it one bit. Maybe after today he should refuse to let him come around anymore. At least, to see him; he can't control when Yoosung hangs out with idiot. With a heavy sigh, Saeran prepares two bowls of ice cream, piling them as high as he did the last time before returning to the sofa. Handing one to Yoosung, Saeran resumes his spot on the far end of the couch, pulling up and crossing his legs in front of him.

Yoosung takes the bowl with a small smile. "Thanks. I think I've eaten more ice cream this week alone than I have all year.”

That sounds remarkably similar to something Saeyoung said a while back. Still, it doesn't fail to surprise Saeran; ice cream is quite possibly the best thing on earth, how can people not eat it all the time? "Really? I eat this much at least every day." 

Raising his eyebrows, Yoosung grins. "Wow, Saeran, that can't be good for you."

"I don't care if it's good for me," Saeran says in a monotone, eyes glued to the TV despite the fact that he’s not actually paying any attention. "It tastes good. That's all I want." As if eating anything else would make him any healthier. His immune system and brain are both royally fucked one way or the other.

"Fair enough, but it's all the more reason for me to cook for you."

Taking the biggest scoop he can manage, Saeran places the spoon in his mouth and closes his eyes. It’s chocolate-covered cherry this time, his absolute favorite. He takes his time to enjoy the flavor as it blooms across his tongue before pulling out the spoon and pointing it at Yoosung. "Nothing you cook is going to make me stop eating ice cream, sorry." He helps himself to another heaping bite.

Yoosung bites his lip. "Right, well, I'm going to try anyway." His voice shakes from what Saeran can only guess is restrained laughter.

Shrugging, Saeran pops the spoon out of his mouth again, waving it in the air. "You're free to do as you please, kid. I'm sure Saeyoung will happily devour whatever you decide to to cook. Maybe even before you or I get a chance to."

Yoosung giggles and shovels some of his ice cream into his mouth. "I'll fight him!”

"Now _that_ is something I'd like to see." Saeran’s lips turn up as he faces Yoosung, cocking his head to the side "Cute nerdy puppy against secret agent hacker cat. Who will win?" Saeran chuckles to himself, shaking his head. It’s a ridiculous idea, of course. Saeyoung would never seriously fight Yoosung and even if he did, Yoosung wouldn’t stand a chance.

Opening his mouth like he’s going to argue, Yoosung pauses, brows furrowing. "You… you called me a cute puppy." 

"Not the first time I've said that today," Saeran points out, already bored with this discussion. "You're cute. You remind me of a puppy. So you're a cute puppy."

"A puppy," Yoosung mumbles. "Why a puppy?"

"Do you actually want an answer for that, or is it one of those questions you're asking but not wanting me to say anything in response?" Rhetorical questions trip Saeran up a lot anymore. Conversation is filled with a lot of nuances he just doesn’t get, and the concept of asking a question that isn’t meant to be answered is baffling. It’s easier for him to just clarify what’s expected of him.

A small moment of hesitation before Saeran catches Yoosung peeking at him from the corner of his eye. "I want you to answer."

Damn. The one time he’d been hoping it would be rhetorical. Saeran exhales heavily and takes another bite of ice scream to stall a few seconds before diving in. "You're excitable and energetic. Eager to please. Seem pretty desperate for approval and attention. Sounds like a puppy to me." He shrugs and takes another bite. "Do you disagree?" 

“I thought you were going to say it's because I pee on the carpet.”

Saeran chokes a little in surprise, swallowing down his ice cream and shaking his head. A joke. A bad one, at that. He’d been prepared for blushing, arguing, but not _that._ "I hope you don't do that," he answers. "Otherwise you're a cute puppy who needs training, too."

A small shiver runs through Yoosung and Saeran watches as his eyes widen in surprise. "I... I don't do that, don't worry." He fixes his eyes on the screen.

...hmm. "That's good." Saeran smirks and leans in a little closer, letting his voice dip. "That would be a bad puppy."

This time Yoosung visibly squirms. "S-Saeran, stop."

Satisfaction swells within Saeran; has he found a hidden kink of the kid’s? Interesting. "Stop what? Calling you a puppy?"

Yoosung squirms again and clutches the hem of his shirt with a hand. "It feels... I dunno," he says quietly.

Yep, definitely a kink Yoosung was unaware of. Saeran files it away in the back of his mind in case it comes in useful at a later date. "Well, we can't have you uncomfortable, can we?" Leaning casually against the back of the couch, he turns his gaze back to the TV. "So I'll stop." 

"Thanks," Yoosung whispers.

Why is Yoosung thanking Saeran for stopping his teasing? "Whatever. I don't care." Shoving some more ice cream in his mouth, he tries to focus on the episode. It’s some weird one about werewolves and the Queen of England and yeah, he’s zoning out again. Why did he feel so weird after touching Yoosung? The hug hadn’t felt that way at all. The only warmth he’d felt was Yoosung’s own body heat, which was to be expected. There’d been no tingling, no… _weird shit._ That waited until they were drawing to crop up. Why? What changed? Was it just a matter of him being mid-breakdown versus post-breakdown? 

Instructing Yoosung not to touch him is easy enough, and he can, of course, keep from initiating anything on his side but that doesn't solve the root of the issue. Is it something he needs to worry about, or will it resolve itself?

They’re halfway into the next episode when Yoosung leans forward to place his empty bowl on the table, the action pulling Saeran out of his head. How did so much time pass without him realizing? And Yoosung hasn’t said a word, which is very out of the norm for him. "You're being oddly quiet.” Saeran pauses a moment; is this his fault? “Did the puppy thing upset you that much?" If that’s the case, then he definitely shouldn’t keep indulging himself in pretending to have friends like this; most of his humor isn’t exactly… nice, per se. If Yoosung can’t handle being called a puppy, it’s not going to end well.

"What? No!" Yoosung turns to Saeran, an odd look of relief on his face. "It didn't bother me, I just... I thought you might want to watch the show without me interrupting.”

"You're free to talk as you please. I don't mind." The words slip out before Saeran properly realizes what he’s saying and he looks down at his lap to hide his own confusion and panic, fingers playing with the hem of his shirt nervously. Where did that come from? Does he… actually enjoy talking to Yoosung?

 What does it mean if he does?

 "Oh! Okay, I just... I don't want you missing too much because it starts getting a little more complicated. I can always explain it, though. I'm... a huge nerd." Yoosung’s voice is nearing what Saeran would call bubbly, and it doesn’t sicken him like it would have before.

Weird. 

"Sounds like the problem's solved, then," Saeran grumbles, casting a glance over at the still-shattered glass by the workroom door. He should probably do something about that before Saeyoung comes back from whatever stupid errand he went out on. Regardless of how angry Saeran is, he doesn't necessarily want to hurt the idiot. Not really. With a groan, he stands and flicks his eyes to Yoosung. "Let it run, I'll be able to hear it." Moving behind the couch, Saeran crouches down at the bottom of the steps leading up to the door and starts picking up the larger shards. There’s not many; it shattered pretty thoroughly. He’s going to have to dig out the vacuum to finish cleaning his mess. Unsurprisingly, Yoosung pauses the show anyway and offers his help. Saeran keeps picking up the glass, unconcerned. "No need for you to risk getting hurt over my own stupidity." His frown deepens when he hears Yoosung walk over to him.

"It's fine, I don't mind. Should you really be doing that with your hands?"

Saeran shrugs. "Doesn't matter. If I get cut it's what I deserve." It’s true that he isn’t being as careful as one probably should be with broken glass, but he doesn’t care. Let him get hurt. It’s the least he deserves for all of his crimes.

"No, wait..." Movement out of the corner of his eye causes Saeran to glance over to see Yoosung’s hand suspended mid-air between them before Yoosung retracts it to his chest. "Don't do anything else, I'll go get something to clear it up with."

 Yoosung hurries off toward the kitchen, leaving a moderately confused Saeran. Why does he care? Saeran had tried to _hurt_ them, had wanted to destroy the RFA. When Yoosung returns with a dustpan and broom, Saeran sits back on his heels and watches him as he sweeps up the smaller shards. He doesn't understand anything this boy does. Why is he helping him? Why does he want to hang out with him? Why does he care about him? Saeran's a nobody, a monster, not worth anyone's time and yet here's Yoosung, practically barging in and proclaiming he wants to be a part of Saeran's life. It makes no sense.  
  
"You're so weird," he mumbles, still holding the glass he’d picked up. "I'm not sure I'll ever understand you."

 "Why? Because I don't want you to get hurt? Yeah, super weird." Sarcasm is prominent in Yoosung’s voice as he glances back at Saeran. "Put that down!"

"No one’s ever cared before," Saeran says thoughtfully, staring at his hand. Everyone who has said they would be there for him has abandoned him, left him to rot in one form or another. This doesn’t make sense. Yoosung caring makes no sense and it feels like it’s making his brain short circuit. "Most chose to hurt me." Back at Mint Eye, when he’d start to feel overwhelmed or like he was receiving attention he didn’t deserve, he’d hurt himself. The spiked bracelet he used to wear was convenient for that. Finding himself craving that sort of pain, Saeran slowly closes his hand, reveling in the feeling of the sharp edges of the broken glass poking into his skin. Tearing it, making him bleed like he should. "Why are you different?"

"Saeran!" Yoosung yelps at the same time Saeran watches a hand close over his wrist. “Don't do that!"

The heat that flashes through his arm is almost unbearable in contrast to the pain and Saeran jerks in surprise, dropping the glass by reflex. For a moment he just stares at Yoosung with wide eyes, blood dripping down his palm as he tries to process the strange emotions fighting for dominance. Running on instinct and without any true thought behind his actions, he grabs Yoosung with a rough hand behind the nape of his neck, yanking him forward to crash their lips together. "Don't fucking touch me," he growls, their breath mingling between them. He jerks his wrist from Yoosung's now-slack hand and stands before storming off to his room and slamming the door shut. It isn’t until he’s safe inside that Saeran’s brain fully catches up with what had just happened and he backs away from the door as though it personally had offended him. What in the actual fuck? Did he really just _kiss_ Yoosung?

He hears his name yelled from the living room followed by the pounding of feet and a hand against his door. “Saeran! Please!”

Of course Yoosung wouldn’t just ignore what’d happened. Saeran glares at the door, angrily rubbing the palm of the hand that had held the glass. Blood smears across the skin and pain blossoms as he presses into one of the bigger cuts, but he's more concerned with the lingering feeling of tingling in both his wrist and his lips. Why the hell had he done that? Saeran hadn't been lying when he'd told Yoosung he truly had no desire to kiss anyone, yet here he is, having just kissed Yoosung. And for what reason? Because he’d _touched_ him? That makes no sense, this makes no sense, this is all fucking _weird_ and Saeran’s about ready to just throw in his hat on the whole “friendship” idea.

But the worst part about this kiss is that he's faced with the fact that... that he hadn't hated it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two of this chapter will also be from Saeran's POV and should be up in a few weeks :)
> 
> Also, big thanks to BlackProse and CannibalKats for reading through this to make sure it wasn't as big of a mess as it felt like <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens after Saeran kisses Yoosung unexpectedly?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is mild self-harm in this chapter.

**Saeran**

 

Saeran feels completely and utterly blindsided. Why would he like kissing Yoosung? He'd always assumed he'd hate it or at least be neutral. It's nothing exciting, right? Just a mouth against another mouth, sometimes with the addition of tongue. No one gets off from that. So what's the point?

Yoosung bangs on the door again, jolting Saeran out of his head. Frustration flares, causing him to jab his thumb into the wound in his palm harder. "Go away," he yells. No way is he going to speak with Yoosung now. Not only does he have no idea how the hell to handle something like this, how to deal with the plethora of emotions swirling throughout him, but he doesn’t know how to handle a likely angry Yoosung. Saeran literally stole his first kiss, and while that milestone meant little to him, Yoosung had clearly romanticized it. How does one come back from that, from the theft of something so priceless? "Leave me alone!"

"No." Panic starts to set in when Saeran sees the doorknob jiggle a little as Yoosung tests the lock. Fuck. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck. Fuck Saeyoung and not letting Saeran have a lock on his door, fuck him to hell. "I'm coming in, okay?"

No, that’s bloody well not okay. Saeran growls and backs away from the door, proverbial hackles up like a trapped feral animal. "Don't," he warns, voice brimming with hostility. "Don't you dare come in here or I'll-!" But his words are nothing more than an empty threat. What would he even do? He has no desire to hurt Yoosung…

Despite his words, Yoosung opens the door and steps inside, warily eyeing him. "Saeran, please, I just want... I just want to talk."

"There's nothing to talk about," Saeran snarls, backing up until he feels his shoulders connect with the wall. He’s unpredictable like this and he knows it, knows that his mood shifts rapidly when he feels cornered. It’s so much easier to be angry, to refuse to feel anything else so he wiggles his thumb into the wound even deeper to cause more pain. Pain is something he can blame on Yoosung, if he wants, blame him for stopping him and for making him feel like he needed to do this to himself. With that comes anger that he turns on Yoosung, his eyes fixed on Yoosung's face as he sneers at him cruelly. "So just fucking leave."

Yoosung bravely takes a step forward, quietly speaking. "Tell me what's going on."

"Tell me what's going on," Saeran repeats mockingly, injecting as much patheticness into his voice as he can. "What's going on is that you're in my room when you shouldn't be."

"Saeran, don't be like that," Yoosung says in exasperation. "Tell me why you did that."

Saeran knows exactly what Yoosung's referring to but he doesn’t want to talk about it, not now, not ever. Nope. He needs to find a way around it, to get out of it but it’s hard with the panic continuing to rise, threatening to overcome the anger. Pressure is curling in his chest, the fingers of anxiety squeezing and burning and god, all it does is make him want to lash out more, to make Yoosung _go away_ so he can break down alone. To do that, he needs to be mean, meaner than he’s been before because apparently Yoosung has a tough skin.

That’s okay. Saeran can needle his way past it.

"Why did I kiss you?" he asks, mouth tilting into a cruel smirk. "Maybe I wanted to. Or maybe I wanted to show you what happens when you're nice to a monster like me. I'll take what I fucking want, no matter how _priceless_ it is, no matter how much it means. Stealing your first kiss is the beginning. What else should I take from you? What else can I steal that you’ll never get back?"

Yoosung just shakes his head and takes another step closer. "Saeran, please," he says softly. "Just... can I come closer?"

Laughing in disdain, Saeran leans forward just a little, raking his eyes up and down Yoosung’s body. “Come closer so I can gobble you up? I’m the big bad wolf in this story, you know. I’ll fucking _break_ you and this time there’s no _precious Saeyoung_ to stop me.”

Still Yoosung steps closer.

Flattening himself against the wall, Saeran raises his hands in front of him as a shield. This is frustrating, how can he get Yoosung to back off? Blood dribbles onto the floor from his cuts and the sudden release from the pain allows a quick change in the dominant emotion. Saeran stares at Yoosung, his face morphing from a visage of anger to one of confusion. This doesn’t make any sense. "Why are you still here? Why aren't you _leaving?”_ he asks, tone still razor sharp but lacking the viciousness from moments ago.

Yoosung’s eyes zero in on the blood and he pales a little. "Saeran, your hand," he says, worry filling his voice.

...shit. "It's fine. Don't waste your worry on me. Just leave me alone."

"No, Saeran, you're bleeding." Yoosung reaches out to grab it but stalls once more, conflicted eyes flicking between Saeran’s face and his hand. "Come with me?"

"Why do you care?" Whipping the injured hand behind his back, Saeran glares suspiciously at Yoosung. "Shouldn't you hate me right now?"

The words barely faze Yoosung. "I don't hate you. Please, come with me. Even if you won't let me clean that up, I at least want you to do it yourself."

"I told you, I'm _fine!"_ Saeran's voice raises drastically in pitch and his breathing starts to quicken as he feels himself tip over the edge. Too much too fast with no time to process. His head's going fuzzy, everything slowing down and becoming muted. "Damn it," he growls, threading his hands in his hair in distress and yanking to try to stop it before it goes too far, to try to drag himself out of his head. Yoosung’s lips move quickly as he tries to say something to him, but his voice is muffled beyond recognition. Squinting, Saeran keeps his eyes trained on them but can’t work out what Yoosung is trying to say; he’s never been good at lip reading. "Dunno what you're saying," he mumbles, his own voice much too loud to him and his words slurring as they drag on too long.

A gentle hand lands on his shoulder and Saeran barely manages to draw his eyes up to meet Yoosung’s concerned ones again. He hates this so much, hates how it feels like everything around him speeds up while his mind slows down to the point of moving as fast as molasses in winter. There’s no hiding when he’s like this, no way to pretend that he’s not the pathetic, broken down man he is. Tugging on his hair, he tries again to bring himself out but to no avail. That hand on his shoulder is the only thing that feels real to him in this moment, like the one piece of color in a black-and-white painting. He fucking hates that too, but the need to stabilize himself before he’s past the point of no return pricks at him and so he drops a hand from his hair to grasp desperately at the only thing anchoring him to the ground. Yoosung’s hand is warm whereas his own is cold, thanks to his poor circulation.

Yoosung says something again but Saeran still can’t understand him so instead he squeezes that hand, maybe too tight or perhaps not tight enough, he’s not sure. Having someone to touch to try to help ground himself is new. The thought of allowing Saeyoung near enough to him to do any of this when he’s mid-episode only brings the taste of bile to his mouth, but Yoosung is so much less threatening than his brother. There’s less pain there, less betrayal. The only thing Yoosung’s ever done to hurt him is be related to that bitch who fucked him up as bad as his own mother had.

Skin on skin is a different sensation than most things he’s used to help ground himself, so he tries to focus on it, tries to use the soft feel of Yoosung’s flesh to help climb out of the pit he’s in. It's enough to stop him from getting worse, but not quite enough to save him. He needs more, more contact, something else to latch onto, but what?

That hug had worked earlier, can he…? It feels like his throat has closed up so he shifts his hand slowly up to wrap around Yoosung’s wrist, tugging a little on it in hopes that Yoosung will understand. Yoosung blinks, brows dipping in confusion but slowly steps closer, sliding his arms around Saeran. Once he feels enveloped in Yoosung’s warmth, Saeran sags forward to bury his head in Yoosung’s shoulder, releasing a shuddering breath. The hand holding Yoosung’s wrist slides up his arm and into the blond hair at the nape of his neck while the other drops from his own hair to grip onto the back of Yoosung’s shirt.

Yoosung’s hair feels so different from his own. Soft despite being bleached, thinner. Here’s something he can use, and he rubs a few of the locks between his fingertips, feeling the texture, the realness of it. The shiver that goes through Yoosung is not lost on him but neither can he afford to pay it attention right now. Slowly his breathing starts to even out and return to normal, his brain kicking back online.

Eventually Saeran has enough of a grip on himself to feel more or less normal - albeit exhausted - so he lifts his head and releases Yoosung’s hair and shirt. Yoosung is so close to him even as he pulls out of the hug, his hand returning to Saeran’s shoulder. There’s not a lot of space between them and in a way Saeran feels suffocated, yet a weird sort of thrill shoots through him at the same time. He can’t back up further; the way they’re standing has him basically pinned against the wall. Being like this forces him to face the rising urge to kiss Yoosung again, and he narrows his eyes at the man before him. He doesn’t know why he wants to kiss him. And he doesn’t like that he doesn’t know why.

“Are you okay?" Yoosung whispers, breath warm where it brushes against Saeran’s face. A small shiver travels down his spine as Yoosung’s eyes search him in worry.

"I'm fine," Saeran responds bitterly, looking at the floor. God, he wants to kiss him. It’s a good thing he has a decent amount of self-control, because it’s being tested rather a lot right now. Stretching out his fingers, Saeran slowly rolls them into a fist and then repeats the process, trying to distract himself.

That hand is still burning on Saeran’s shoulder. “Do you need me to do anything?"

"I need you to stop touching me." Drained, Saeran's voice falls flat, emotionless. He's not sure how much longer he can hold himself back if Yoosung doesn’t move away.

Yoosung immediately retracts his hand but he doesn't step back. "Okay. Sorry. I... I thought my touch was helping."

Saeran’s eyes snap back to Yoosung’s. "Helping?" A small laugh tumbles from him. "You're so desperate to help me. A puppy desperate to help the broken man. Tell me, Yoosung..." Slamming both of his hands onto Yoosung’s cheeks, Saeran holds him in place as he leans forward to the point where their breath mingles and lips nearly touch. "Just how bad do you want to be a good puppy?"

Yoosung’s face instantly burns red. "I... I..."

Snickering at Yoosung’s sudden inability to speak, Saeran drops his eyes to those tempting lips again. "A good puppy," he murmurs, throwing any attempt at restraint out the window as he crashes their lips together once more, angry and desperate. A small squeak issues forth from Yoosung but he doesn’t pull away, doesn’t struggle or try to shove Saeran off so he keeps going. The act of kissing Yoosung causes even more conflicting emotions to flood him and he doesn't know what they mean, so he just kisses Yoosung harder, almost like his life depends on it. "Why do I want to kiss you?" he growls against Yoosung's lips as he tangles his hands back into that soft blond hair. "What are you doing to me?" Some of the hair irritates the cuts on his palm, so he grips it harder, pushing the strands in more.

"I don't know," Yoosung breathes, whimpering softly.

 _Fuck._ That noise shoots straight through Saeran and he presses their lips together again, wanting to hear more and devour any sound Yoosung has to give him. He's greedy, so greedy and he moves his chapped lips across Yoosung’s own hungrily, his hands sliding down to grip Yoosung’s shoulders. Hands settle on his waist and then he feels pressure coming from Yoosung as he starts to kiss him back, the soft smacking of their lips undeniable proof this is _actually_ happening and is not some warped figment of his imagination.

Saeran growls, hands tightening on Yoosung’s shoulders and he whips them around, pinning Yoosung against the wall. He presses flush against him, relishing the feeling of their bodies connected in more places than one and is rewarded with the sound of a low, pleased whimper. The heat he’d been avoiding so intently before bursts through him in a wave so strong it nearly bowls him over and god, he wants more. Why? Why does he want more?

An aching burn inflames his lungs, reminding Saeran of the unfortunate need to breathe. With a soft pop he parts their lips, fear and confusion flooding his system as he realizes he'd just kissed Yoosung _again._ Heart racing in panic, he takes a few steps back, turning away from Yoosung. Hands soaked with blood and sweat fist in his hair once more as he tries to figure out what is going on. "Why am I kissing you?" He paces, agitated. "Why do I want to _keep_ kissing you?"

Jagged breaths fall from behind him. Knowing that he’s the reason Yoosung is breathing so heavily is oddly fulfilling, but not enough so to explain why he wants to keep going. "I d-don't know," Yoosung whispers for a second time.

"The puppy doesn't know," Saeran says, rolling his eyes and jerking roughly at his hair, the pain a comforting familiar in a world of unknown. "Doesn't know but doesn't stop me. What does the puppy want, I wonder?" A good question. Spinning on his heel, Saeran gets back up in Yoosung's space, one arm anchored on the wall by his head as he stares at him, waiting for an answer.

Yoosung straightens up under his gaze, face still flushed. "W-why do you keep calling me that?"

"Because you're like a puppy." Saeran says, twirling a finger in Yoosung's longer bangs. "And it makes you all blushy and awkward." Yoosung’s mouth opens and closes once, then twice before he stops, watching Saeran with a look somewhere between excited and scared.

What an expression; Saeran wants to wipe it off his face and replace it with something else. Groaning, he tugs on Yoosung’s hair. "Fuck, what are you _doing_ to me?" Without giving Yoosung any time to answer, he dips down and locks their lips together once more, every bit as rough and angry as before. None of this makes any sense and he doesn’t understand it. Why does he suddenly want to kiss someone, and why is that someone _Yoosung?_ Why does he _like_ it? He’s frustrated and confused and he takes it all out on Yoosung via the kiss, through the harsh pressure of his mouth, through the way he bites at Yoosung's soft lips, through the growls that continue to rip their way out of his throat. Saeran feels like a wild animal right now and Yoosung is his prey.

Yoosung melts beneath him, those hands gripping his waist again, getting tighter and tighter as he begins to tremble. Every nip is followed by a low moan and Saeran shudders, the sounds affecting him more than he'd like. "Puppy likes it rough," he murmurs against Yoosung's mouth. "You like my anger." Pushing himself against Yoosung, he tugs on the hair around his finger again, harder this time. He can feel the heavy rise and fall of Yoosung's chest like this as he tries to regain the breath stolen mercilessly from him. “Maybe puppy needs to be punished?"

"P-punished?"

"Punished," Saeran confirms, pulling back enough to allow Yoosung to glimpse the wicked intent in his eyes, the way his pupils have dilated. "Or puppy could be rewarded, maybe. Praised. Depends." He laughs darkly, tracing the outline of Yoosung's lips tauntingly before pressing one finger inside to swipe against his tongue. "Kissing is more fun than I gave it credit for. If I didn't think you'd stop me, I'd show you how much fun _my_ favorite thing to do with my mouth is." With a smirk painted on his face, Saeran slowly withdraws his finger and nips at Yoosung’s lower lip. "Too bad, really. I think you'd like it." The call to tease him further is overwhelming, too sweet to pass up. Running one hand down Yoosung's arm, he latches onto the wrist and pulls it up, gently laying a kiss on the tip of one finger before sucking it in, twirling his tongue around it.

The way Yoosung's breath hitches is immensely satisfying and drives Saeran to suck lightly, holding his gaze the entire time. "W-what?" Yoosung’s eyes are wide and Saeran can see the desire in them as they visibly darken, can feel the way Yoosung’s hardening against him. Yeah, Yoosung definitely wants this too… which is why his next words are a surprise. "S-Saeran, wait," he says, biting his lip as he slowly takes back his finger to place both hands on Saeran's chest, pushing to force some distance between them. "This... this isn't right. You're not... you're j-just confused..."

"What makes you think that?" Quirking an eyebrow, Saeran's hands shoot up to grip Yoosung's wrists. He doesn't make a move to shove them off, not yet, but he's ready to at a second's notice. "I offered to kiss you earlier, didn't I?" Tilting his head to the side, he leans as far over Yoosung’s hands as he can, smirking darkly. "And as far as sucking you off? I've done that to people I've known far less because _I_ like it."

Yoosung whimpers softly, then closes his eyes and takes a shaky breath. "Saeran, n-no, you... you don't want to do this."

Saeran's smirk morphs into a bitter sneer and he drops Yoosung’s wrists like they’re on fire. "Like you have any clue what I want." Frustrated, he turns and strides back to his bed, flopping on the head of it and sitting with his head against the wall. If Yoosung’s going to try to tell him what he wants, then he has no interest in listening. Saeran can damn well decide on his own what his desires are. Folding his hands on his lap, he closes his eyes and exhales. "You can leave now."

There’s a moment of silence before Yoosung speaks up again. "Saeran?"

"What." Saeran doesn't move, doesn’t look at Yoosung.

"I don't want to leave."

"Why not?" God, why can’t he just go? Saeran needs to be alone, needs to have a chance to at least process some of the shit that’s occurred over the past few hours even if he doesn’t understand it. Taking a deep breath, he exhales slowly and shakily as he comes down from the adrenaline rush. Two breakdowns in such close succession to each other is absolutely exhausting and he's really starting to feel it. "Why would you want to stay?"

"To make sure you're okay.” The voice comes closer. Yoosung’s probably standing by the edge of the bed if Saeran had to guess.

Saeran laughs hollowly. "You are so weird. After all that, you still want to help me? God..." He opens his eyes and looks up at Yoosung, expression carefully neutral. "You know, I get violent sometimes. Sometimes I have no control over what I'm doing.” Granted, that’s not why he kissed Yoosung but does the kid know what he’s getting into? “What if now had been worse? What if I’d hurt you? What then?" Slumping, Saeran glances off to the side, self-hatred burning high. "I'm not worth your time."

"You are." The certainty with which Yoosung says it shocks Saeran to his core and he stares as Yoosung sits on the bed just out of arm's reach. "We... we get along, right? I don't want to just abandon you."

"We get along." Saeran barks out a laugh again. "And I kiss you, repeatedly, without your permission."

Yoosung looks down at his lap, hands fidgeting with the seams on his jeans. "I... I didn't hate it," he admits softly.

Blinking in surprise, Saeran’s eyebrows knit together as he gazes at Yoosung skeptically. Should he believe him? As far as he’s aware, Yoosung hasn’t lied to him yet - yet being the key word. So is he being honest about this or is this a misguided attempt to make Saeran feel better? God. How can Yoosung have any handle on how he feels about anything already? Saeran has no idea what he thinks of the whole situation, of how it makes him feel, or how good Yoosung tastes, how great his lips feel against Saeran's...

Fuck. Biting his lip, Saeran looks away. "It's not nice to lie," he says quietly. "That won't make me feel better."

"What?" Yoosung squeaks. "I-I'm not lying. I... I kissed you back..."

"Heat of the moment." People do stupid things in a moment of passion. Saeran’s seen it personally. Shrugging, he starts to pick at his cuticles anxiously. "Loneliness. Curiosity. There could be millions of reasons for you to kiss me back. But it doesn't matter. I don't even know why I kissed you. Or why I still want to, for that matter."

Yoosung inhales audibly. "I... I liked it.”

"Don't tempt me to do it again." Saeran resolutely keeps his face turned away, not wanting to see the expression Yoosung’s wearing. Even though curiosity pricks at his mind, even though he for some reason _wants_ Yoosung to be telling the truth, he refuses to look.

"Why do you want to?"

"I don't know," Saeran says tiredly, his frustration leaking into his voice. "Haven't I said that enough times by now? I have no fucking idea why I suddenly gained the urge to permanently attach my face to yours, but it's there, okay?" Not knowing is driving him to the brink of insanity; this is so unlike him, so unusual and he has no clue why it’s happening.

Yoosung groans. "Why do _I_ want you to?"

Wait, what? Did Saeran hear that right? "You do?" he asks in disbelief, slowly turning his gaze back to Yoosung. The earnestness in that innocent face says it all; Yoosung wants to kiss Saeran again, too.

Yoosung drops his eyes to his lap, ducking behind his hair. "Yeah, I..." He trails off. "Fuck."

Saeran’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Yoosung swore… and it was honestly kinda hot. "You fuck, huh?" Saeran deadpans, unable to hold back. It’s probably not a good time to be making jokes like that but since when has that stopped him? "Good to know."

A startled laugh preludes Yoosung glancing back up at him. "It's not _funny."_ Groaning again, he covers his face with a hand. "Ugh. Do you just... like seeing me in pain?"

"No, I like seeing you pinned against the wall." Saeran’s heart thumps against his ribcage as the words leave his mouth before he can stop them. Teeth dig into the side of his cheek nervously while he watches Yoosung closely, wanting to see how he reacts to Saeran’s blunt response.

Blushing a very dark shade of red, Yoosung drops his hand to return Saeran’s discerning gaze. He’s probably trying to figure out it Saeran’s being serious or not, a struggle Saeran understands intimately at this point. "Then do it," he challenges.

Their eyes meet and for a moment it seems like they’re both frozen in place as the dare registers in Saeran’s mind. When he moves, it’s the fastest he’s ever traveled, pinning Yoosung against the mattress in the space between heartbeats. Saeran hums softly, pleased at the sight of Yoosung’s wrists held above his head by his own hands, wide eyes staring up at him and brimming with anticipation. "Be careful what you ask for," he says lowly, dipping down to press his mouth against Yoosung's and moving it aggressively, hungrily. The action earns him a whimper, music to his ears, and he growls softly when Yoosung starts to reciprocate.

There’s so much he wants to do right now, so many ways to make Yoosung feel good. Hovering above him, Saeran continues to leave bruising kiss after bruising kiss on those addictive lips, nipping and biting and licking to taste Yoosung in any fashion he can. It's tempting to lower himself directly on top of Yoosung, to feel that rush of heat again, but there is more than one way to work someone up. Perhaps being more indirect is the key with Yoosung; give him the means and see what happens.

Nudging a knee between Yoosung's legs, Saeran slowly slides it up, switching to holding both of Yoosung's wrists in one hand at the same time. Now free to do what he pleases with his other hand, he starts trailing it down Yoosung's side whisper-soft, exploring, testing the waters. He feels Yoosung shiver under his ministrations and is about to pull back to tease him when a moan slips out, instantly setting fire to Saeran's blood. An answering moan leaves him and he slips his knee up the rest of the way to press against Yoosung's crotch, surprised to find him half hard already. Fuck, he's enjoying this and Saeran _loves_ that. The fact the Yoosung is so willing, so submissive drives him crazy in a way he didn't know was possible. He pushes his knee against him a little firmer and is rewarded with a louder moan and the trembling of Yoosung's hips. Saeran's own quiver as he holds back the urge to lie against him and grind their growing hardness together. Not yet.

Still not satisfied, still wanting more, as much as Yoosung will give him, Saeran bites at Yoosung's lips, licking around them to both soothe and send a message. What's he called this in the past? Slurping spit. It's oddly appealing to him right now as his lips ache from the near violent kisses and while he tastes Yoosung on his tongue. Is this what people feel, what he'd been missing? Dragging his fingers across Yoosung's stomach, he purposefully brushes the waistband of Yoosung's jeans, pressing into the kiss more. Damn, how he wants to take them off, to lick up those thighs and see his dick, to toy and tease and then take him in his-

"S-Saeran, I don't know if this is a g-good idea," Yoosung gasps suddenly as he pulls back from the kiss, his voice much higher-pitched than usual. His face is flushed and lips slightly swollen as he pants harshly. He's the most beautiful thing Saeran's ever seen.

"Nothing I do is ever a good idea," Saeran responds hoarsely, hooking his finger in Yoosung's waistband to slide across tauntingly. He doesn't want to stop, he wants more. "Are you saying you don't want this? To feel my mouth on you, licking and sucking and making you feel good?" Moving his knee to create some friction, Saeran clutches onto Yoosung's wrists near desperately. _Please let me taste you..._

Yoosung bites his lip but it does nothing to stifle the moan that slips out. "I... I don't think w-we should," he breathes. "Y-you're angry, and I've n-never done anything like th-this before."

With a frustrated groan, Saeran releases Yoosung and crawls off, flopping back down in his spot at the head of the bed. Desire is pumping through his veins and he’s very aware of how apparent it is that he’d been having a good time, but he does nothing to hide that fact as he slings an arm over his tired eyes. Kissing Yoosung got him ramped up again but he knows he’ll crash any second now, no longer in the middle of the distraction.

There’s a few moments of silence except for the rustle of fabric, a likely indicator that Yoosung is moving in some manner. “What does this mean?" he asks softly, the bed shifting slightly from… whatever he’s doing.

"Hell if I know,” Saeran answers warily. “Suppose it depends what you’re asking about.”

"...I mean for _us."_

"Us...?" The way Yoosung puts a heavy emphasis on the word gets Saeran’s attention; is the kid expecting something more now? Something like a relationship? That’s… no. Not happening. Saeran did _not_ just kiss his way into having a boyfriend. "I imagine we keep watching Doctor What and drawing?" he answers evasively.

There’s a rather pregnant pause before Yoosung speaks again. "And... kissing?"

A lazy grin slowly spreads across Saeran’s face. Yoosung likes it that much, huh? "And kissing, if you want." Who is he to say no to this newfound pleasure? As long as that’s the _only_ thing Yoosung wants from him in addition… “Any other requests?”

“No… But we can't tell Seven," Yoosung hastily adds on, a note of panic in his voice. "I mean, Saeyoung. We can't tell him."

Saeran snickers, waving his free hand in the air dismissively. "Do you honestly think I'd ever voluntarily tell my brother anything? Although..." Trailing off, he drops his arm and gazes at Yoosung, the side of his mouth quirking up into a cruel smirk. "It _would_ be funny to tell him I've been making out with his best friend just for the hell of it."

"Saeran, _no!"_ Yoosung says desperately, sliding closer to him. Saeran could reach out and easily touch him now. "You can't!"

"Why not?" Propping himself up a little higher, Saeran raises an eyebrow in amusement. Toying with Yoosung really is way too much fun to pass up. "Are you _ashamed_ of me, puppy?"

Perhaps his inability to vocalize his feelings is contagious or maybe Yoosung is as lost as he is in this situation. All Saeran knows is that one moment Yoosung has his mouth open, looking like a fish out of water and the next there’s a hand tangled in his shirt and lips pressed up against his own. It’s messy and a little wetter than before, quick but with an edge of desperation that was missing earlier. When Yoosung pulls back Saeran has to force himself not to follow, unwilling to let on just how much he’d enjoyed that.

"Don't tell him.” This time, Yoosung’s voice is firm, demanding.

That tingling feeling has returned to his lips. Saeran brings a hand up to them in surprise as though the soft press of his fingers will mimic the kiss. It doesn’t. "Puppy's getting brave," he murmurs, filing away a theory that a frustrated Yoosung equals a Yoosung willing to take control. That could be fun to explore. "Alright. I won't tell him. No matter how funny it would be."

"You'd better not.”

Chuckling, Saeran lets his hand slip down to tap a finger against his chin as he regards Yoosung. "Or what? You'll angrily kiss me again?"

Folding his arms, Yoosung directs what Saeran thinks is supposed to be a scowl at him. It looks more like a mildly angry grimace, somehow managing to be cute. "Or maybe I won't kiss you at all."

Is that an empty threat? Saeran’s not sure; he doesn’t know Yoosung well enough to be able to read his tells. Should he try to call his bluff? "I can go back to a life with no kisses. The real question is: can you?"

Yoosung’s eyes narrow and he glares at Saeran. "This isn't fair," he mumbles.

"Puppy's getting frustrated?" Saeran pouts a little and sits up, reaching forward to pat Yoosung on his head like one might an actual puppy. "Remember, every puppy needs a master." Switching to running his hand through the soft hair once, he decides to ruffle it before letting his hand softly brush against the side of Yoosung’s face as he pulls it back.

Red creeps into Yoosung’s cheeks again and he slowly unfolds his arms, the glare softening into a mostly confused, partially interested expression. "A m-master?"

"Mmhmm." This will work, this gives him an excuse to get close again. If there’s one thing Saeran’s not, it’s a quitter. When he decides he actually wants something that he knows is within his reach, he’ll keep trying for it. And right now, that thing is to taste Yoosung again. Kneeling, Saeran shuffles closer to Yoosung, knocking their knees together and leaning forward, feeling a weird sort of gratification when Yoosung sways toward him a little. "A master to reward him when he's good... to give him what he needs..." If his guess about Yoosung’s kink is right, if this is actually something he’s into, Saeran will soon know. "To train him... And to punish him when he's bad."

"P-punish?" Yoosung whimpers softly, one hand sliding down his jeans to adjust himself. Saeran grins wolfishly at that; confirmation that he’s _definitely_ into this.

"Punish." Eyes flashing wickedly, Saeran places a hand on Yoosung’s chest and starts to push him onto his back, crawling on top of him when he doesn’t fight. Puppy kink, a sub for sure… and possibly a masochist. How fun. There’s a lot of potential here. "Bad puppies need to be taught a lesson, right?"

"Right," Yoosung breathes, tongue flicking out to wet his lips. "H-how?"

This time Saeran does indulge in the desire to be flush against Yoosung, but it feels different like this. More exciting, and he can feel things even better than before. Like the fact that Yoosung is almost completely hard just from the little bit of wordplay Saeran’s been teasing him with. "Oooh, somebody likes this," he says roughly, his gaze growing more intense as lust burns hot in his veins. "But you're not being a bad puppy right now. I think I'll keep that bit a secret until I need to use it.”

Yoosung’s clutching at the sheets below them as he meets Saeran’s gaze, his eyes filled with a carnal longing. "Wh-what are you going to do right now?"

"Depends. Puppy keeps _stopping_ me before things get interesting, which makes me sad." What is he going to do, though? Saeran hadn’t actually thought this far ahead, letting his body move by instinct alone. An idea presents itself, one that might work... "But for now..." Untangling Yoosung’s hands from the sheets is easier than expected, Yoosung willingly submitting himself to the gentle prod of Saeran’s fingers. Placing them above his head, Saeran arranges them as though he’s going to hold them there, then lets go. "Don't touch," he warns. "That'll be a bad puppy. Use your words if you need to let me know something."

There’s no hesitation in the way Yoosung nods eagerly, turning his hands over to fist in the sheets again. "Okay," he says, already panting shallowly.

It’s so easy to work him up, to get him to the point where he desires pleasure. In the past, Saeran’s tried his hand at rough seduction with some rather obstinate people, ones who’ve had many lovers or few, who aren’t easily impressed. Yet he always managed to get them to beg for him, to writhe in pleasure beneath him. Yoosung’s refused him twice despite how convinced Saeran’s been that he’s headed the right direction. Whatever. If Saeran’s lucky, third time will be the charm.

Where to start… each piece of pale skin is uncharted territory for him to explore, to run his lips across and find out what pulls the best noises out of Yoosung. For the first time Saeran notices that Yoosung’s blush extends to his ears and he grins, licking along the shell of one lightly. “Good,” he whispers. Taking the lobe into his mouth, he nibbles at it gently a few times before biting down a little harder. The moment his teeth sink into the skin Yoosung whimpers and arches his back, confirming one of Saeran’s other theories about him.

“So puppy likes pain, yeah?” Saeran releases the ear and traces a line from the base of it down to the collar of Yoosung’s shirt with his tongue, flattening it to swipe over the hollow of his neck. “How much pain, I wonder?” he muses softly, licking at a piece of skin at the base of his neck. Once, twice, three times and then he’s digging his teeth in deep, satisfied to hear the barely muffled whine followed by harsh pants. Switching to sucking, he works the skin long enough that he feels he’ll leave a mark before popping off the skin and dragging his tongue across to do the same thing to the other side.

"Mmf, S-Saeran," Yoosung moans, yelping softly when Saeran bites down again, "c-can I cover my mouth?"

Covering his mouth… Not a request Saeran really likes but one that was probably unavoidable. Considering how he’s not exactly quiet now, when they’re just starting out, it’s likely Yoosung will get pretty loud and there’s no telling when Saeyoung will come home. The last thing they need is for a good-intentioned idiot to come barging in to make sure Saeran’s not hurting him… Sliding his hands down to rest on Yoosung’s waist, Saeran starts to run his lips up his neck. "Yes. Good puppy for asking," he husks against the heated skin, continuing until he slots their mouths together once more. Yoosung sighs beneath him, arms twitching and for a brief second he thinks that his ‘no touching’ rule is about to be broken. Pride flares inside of him when those arms become still once more.

"You're doing so well," Saeran coos against Yoosung's lips. “You deserve a treat…” Pressing his hips down, he grinds against Yoosung, feeling the shudder that rips through the body beneath him. A long, broken moan is muffled by his kiss, his hands gripping harder when Yoosung tries to buck up against them. "So sensitive." He nips once at Yoosung’s lower lip before pulling back to watch him with half-lidded eyes. "So much fun to play with." A hand snakes under Yoosung’s shirt, trailing across the skin there, exploring the unseen stomach and chest. One of Yoosung’s hands come down to slap across his mouth and Saeran smirks, gratified by the moan he hears when he drags a nail across a nipple. Those hips fight to move and Yoosung manages to roll up once before Searan slams his other hand back down. “No,” he growls, diving down to latch onto the same patch of skin he’d worked moments before, sucking with a vengeance. Determined to leave a mark, he keeps going, rolling his hips every so often to hear that muffled moan.

When confident the area will bruise, he releases the skin and pulls back, a wicked grin gracing his face. As he traces the outline of the quickly reddening skin lazily, a burst of pride flows through him unexpectedly. What the hell? This isn’t the first time he’s marked someone, no, far from it; yet he’s never felt quite like this. Why is it that everything is so damn weird when Yoosung is involved? Frustrated, Searan rips Yoosung’s hand away from his mouth and crashes their lips together again, grinding down against him as hard as he can. The subsequent gasp and moan only add fuel to the fire, the kiss turning punishingly hard. This is all _Yoosung’s_ fault for being… whatever he is, and Saeran will make sure he knows that.

A soft sigh and whine tumble from Yoosung as he tries to respond, tries to struggle against Saeran’s hands but instead of indulging him, Saeran laughs. He pushes himself up onto his knees to make it impossible for Yoosung to grind against him. Perhaps he’s a bit of a sadist or maybe he just likes being in complete control; if Yoosung wants friction, he’ll give it to him, but only on his own terms. A loud noise of frustration makes him laugh again.

“Is puppy getting mad?” Saeran draws back just far enough for their lips to barely brush against each other as he speaks. “Hmm, you’re being so good for me, though. I think I’ll give you a reward…” Yoosung whimpers and quivers beneath him as he releases one side of Yoosung’s hips to trail a finger down the outside of his thighs. His tongue darts out to lick slowly across both of their lips, that finger changing directions halfway down to slide across and then back up.

There’s no denying the fact that they’re both fully hard by now but Saeran cares little about his own erection at the moment. He can feel where the jeans’ material begin to tent even if he can’t see it, and he traces around the area teasingly. Yoosung’s breath catches in his throat and Saeran chooses to nip at his lip when he hears it, his own excitement growing. He’s so close, so close… Inhaling in anticipation, he presses his palm against the hardness, grinding down.

Yoosung’s hips buck up and he moans, eyes flying open to meet Saeran’s, a touch of panic in them. "W-wait," he stammers between breaths. "We shouldn't be d-doing this."

Fuck. Saeran moves his hand to the mattress and braces himself up on his forearms, face falling into it’s neutral expression as he tries to hide his disappointment. "What part?" he asks in a bored tone.

"Th-this," Yoosung repeats unhelpfully, voice starting to get a little hysterical. Biting his lip, he averts his eyes. "The touching, even... even the k-kissing. We... we can't do this. We're not even together! And I'm n-not gay!"

Not gay, indeed. Rolling his eyes, Saeran clambers off of Yoosung into a sitting position. "I'm not interested in a relationship so if you're looking for that, you're barking up the wrong tree. And your body disagrees with you, by the way," he says, eyes pointedly falling upon Yoosung's jeans.

Scooting away, Yoosung jerks upright and attempts to adjust himself so his arousal is less obvious, avoiding Saeran’s gaze. "I d-don't want a relationship with you. You're a _guy._ I... I shouldn't have done this."

"Excellent observation, I _am_ a guy," Saeran snarks, sliding to rest his back against the wall. Crossing his arms over his chest, he glares at Yoosung, everything about his posture radiating annoyance. "Didn't seem to stop you earlier."

"I should leave," Yoosung mumbles. "I... we can't do this again."

"Whatever you say, kid," Saeran shrugs, eyes drawn to the way Yoosung’s wringing his hands in his lap. Wow, he’s really upset by this. A small bit of guilt crops up in the back of Saeran’s brain, but he ignores it. "Go scramble home then."

"Give me a minute." Clenching his jaw, Yoosung closes his eyes.

"Mmhmm." Does Yoosung know that he’s stained with Saeran’s blood? His hair, his shoulder… even some of his face. Glancing at his hand, Saeran notes that it’s no longer bleeding - somewhere during their heavy makeout session, it’d clotted. Well, if Yoosung doesn’t know, Saeran’s not gonna be the one to tell him. He’s probably focusing on trying to get rid of the evidence of their time together. Good thing Saeran left a rather obvious mark on the base of his neck. Snorting softly, Saeran starts picking at his nail polish.

He'll never admit it, but he's actually disappointed Yoosung's leaving.

After a few minutes of awkward silence, Yoosung pushes himself to his feet. "Sorry," he mumbles, moving to the door and grabbing the handle. “I… h-have a good night.” Then he opens it and is gone.

Is Saeyoung even home to let Yoosung out? Saeran couldn’t even if he wanted, but he really has no idea how Yoosung will get out if his brother is still gone. Whatever. He can figure it out; it’s not Saeran’s problem anymore.

Laying on his bed, Saeran waits to fall asleep but finds that he can’t. Despite the crippling exhaustion, he’s restless. Whipping a pillow out from underneath himself, he shoves his face into the plush cotton and yells as loud as he can, frustrated. He's angry. Angry that he kissed Yoosung in the first place. Angry that Yoosung kept stopping him. Angry that a part of him feels used.

And angry that he might have just lost the one potential friend he had.

He just had to fuck that up, like he fucks up everything.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was really fun to write!

Yoosung messed up. He _really_ messed up.

He had his first kiss and it was with Saeran. A _guy_. And he’d liked it.

It’s bothering him a hell of a lot, because what does it mean for him? He knows he’s not gay. He’s had crushes on countless girls and he’s never even thought about looking at a guy in that way. At least, not that he’s been aware of.

Usually he would talk to Seven when things like this were bothering him. In fact, Seven would be ideal to talk to about a sexuality crisis considering he’s not straight himself, but he can’t exactly tell him about this because it would require an explanation. He supposes he could just say he kissed a guy, not naming names, but Yoosung’s not good at lying or keeping secrets when he’s confronted directly about things. Especially by his best friend. He’s far too easy to read.

And it had been more than just kissing. Yoosung had… he’d got _excited_. God, he’s so embarrassed. He presses his hands to his face and falls back so he’s lying down on his bed. He’s had more than twenty four hours to think about it already, but it just won’t disappear from his head.

He needs to let it out somehow, so he opens Tripter on his phone, fingers hovering over the keyboard. He knows people get annoyed when people tweet vague things that seem attention seeking, but Yoosung’s not intentionally looking for attention. He just wants to say something about it to someone.

And there’s the thought in the back of his mind that maybe Saeran will see it.

 

_How can you go 20 years without knowing something about yourself?_

 

He closes his eyes after he sends the tript. He’s not gay, he’s pretty certain of that. But he can’t deny he was into the kissing.

His phone buzzes, making him jump. Wait… Seven replied to it?

 

_Are u okay??_

 

Dammit. Yoosung hadn’t intended for anyone to actually see it. He supposes it might not have been a good idea to post it so publicly, huh? Too late now.

 

_Idk. Just confused._

 

He still doesn’t particularly want to tell Seven about this. He just hopes he doesn’t push it too much.

 

_Anything I can help with?_

 

Yoosung sighs. Seven really is a good friend. He takes him for granted sometimes but he honestly doesn’t know what he’d do without him.

 

_No, it’s fine._

 

Yoosung’s fingers start twitching, and before he knows it he’s typed Saeran’s username in the search bar and has clicked on his profile. Has he mentioned anything about it? His most recent tript was two hours ago.

 

_Whatever. It’s stupid._

 

Is that about Yoosung? God, he doesn’t know. He feels like he needs to know or it’s going to bug him, but he doesn’t want Saeran to know he’s been on his page. Maybe he could send a vague tript about the situation.

 

_How did I mess up this badly?_

 

There. If Saeran bothers to look he’ll know what it’s about. Yoosung shuts his phone off and buries his face in his hands again. How did everything get so messed up?

 

* * *

 

The next morning Yoosung’s still not feeling any better. He picks up his phone and he has no notifications. He feels his stomach sink a little, but what had he been hoping for? A text from Saeran? No chance. It’s been two days.

He opens Tripter to see no one’s interacted with his last tript. He sighs. Did Saeran even see it? He goes to his profile and sees that he’s posted something new.

 

_You know what’s a lot of fun to play with? Puppies._

 

Wait, what? Yoosung feels his stomach drop and he sits bolt upright in bed, face burning. No way. Is that about _him?_ There’s no way it can’t be. Saeran had been calling him puppy while they’d been… no, he doesn’t want to think about that again. Yoosung posts his own tript.

 

_oh my god_

 

Maybe it’s immature to be vagueing him like this, but he has no other way to contact him without seeming desperate or messed up over this. He opens Saeran’s profile again. He’s sent another tript already.

 

_Every lost puppy needs a master to guide them._

 

What the hell? Does he _want_ people to find out? Does he get a kick out of this? Yoosung sends another tript typing nothing, just attaching his own angry emoji. He shuts his phone off and lets out a noise of frustration, rolling over and shoving his face into the pillow. What is someone sees? What if someone puts the pieces together? There’s no way this can be a good thing. And what the hell does Saeran mean by ‘play with’? God, Yoosung’s entire body feels like it’s burning right now.

He rolls over onto his back again restlessly and throws an arm over his face. This is so humiliating. His first kiss. His first… well, he can’t really deny that they’d made out. Yoosung brings a hand to his neck. It had felt weirdly good when Saeran had bitten him. He has a mark there, and he hadn’t even realised until he’d got home. He’d had to wear a high-collared shirt to college yesterday and will probably have to again today. A part of him likes it. It makes him feel like he belongs to someone, but that someone is _Saeran_ , and Yoosung’s not sure how he feels about that specifically. He likes Saeran, of course he does, but they’re friends and he’s straight. He’d just liked the act of kissing. The fact he’s a guy had nothing to do with it.

Yoosung’s hands are resting on his tummy now. He’d left the bunker two days ago feeling frustrated and confused, and now that he’s thinking about how everything had felt, it feels… good. His hands slowly wander a little lower. Wait. No. He can’t touch himself to the thought of this.

He opens his phone again and checks Saeran’s profile.

 

_Bones are good to make upset puppies happy._

 

Yoosung can feel his anger rising inside him. What gives Saeran the right to be so public about this? Especially the whole puppy thing. That’s just not fair. Yoosung types out his own angry tript.

 

_STOP_

 

Then he sends another for good measure.

 

_This isn’t fair._

 

He locks his phone and throws it across the room. He knows Saeran is looking at his profile because he’s pretty much responding to his tripts as he sends them, and if he doesn’t stop then Yoosung doesn’t know what he’ll do.

But he can’t stop thinking about it. His hands wander down below his waistband.

 

* * *

 

Yoosung feels guilty for a number of reasons. Firstly, for abandoning Saeran and their friendship. Secondly, for pretty much taking advantage of Saeran when he was vulnerable. And thirdly, because he hasn’t been paying attention in his classes at all for the past three days and is probably falling behind.

He’s too preoccupied with the whole Tripter thing. Why can’t Saeran just text him instead? He hasn’t checked Saeran’s profile since the drama yesterday morning, but he can’t take it anymore. He needs to check he’s stopped, but there’s a new tript that was posted not even an hour ago.

 

_With the correct training, puppies can be wonderful companions._

 

No! He’s still doing it. Yoosung can’t just let this happen anymore.

 

**To: Saeran**

**(15:48)** Stop it

 

Saeran replies more quickly than Yoosung had expected him to.

 

**To: Yoosung**

**(15:49)** stop what?

 

Yoosung groans. He’s clearly going to be difficult about this. God, aren’t they supposed to be adults? Aren’t they supposed to be _friends?_

 

**To: Saeran**

**(15:49)** You _know_ what!

 **(15:50)** It’s not funny

 

**To: Yoosung**

**(15:51)** all I’m doing right now is drawing and breathing.

 **(15:51)** and texting you, I suppose.

 **(15:52)** which do you want me to stop?

 

What the hell is his problem? How is Yoosung supposed to get through to him and show him how humiliating this is?

 

**To: Saeran**

**(15:52)** Why are you being like this?!

 **(15:53)** We need to talk

 

**To: Yoosung**

**(15:54)** because it’s fun.

 **(15:54)** you know where I am.

 

Yoosung grips his phone tightly, trying not to break it in his anger.

 

**To: Saeran**

**(15:55)** GOD

 **(15:55)** You’re so frustrating!!

 **(15:55)** I’m coming over

 

**To: Yoosung**

**(15:56)** bring a leash in case you need to go on a walk.

 

Yoosung groans in frustration and has to resist throwing his phone against the wall. He can just picture Saeran smirking at his phone right now. Why is he being like this?! What if someone guesses what all those tripts were about? He knows Seven saw them because he replied to one with a confused emoji, and just the thought of that sends a shiver through him. He doesn’t want anyone to know. Saeran _knows_ that, and it’s not fair to tease him like this. It had been difficult enough trying to hide the stupid mark on his neck. He’s decided he doesn’t like it now. He refuses to think about how it had made him feel.

Yoosung catches the usual bus he gets to the bunker, trying to calm his anger but it’s not working. He needs to make Saeran delete those tripts.

The bus stops and he walks until he reaches the door to the bunker. He sucks in a deep breath. God, he has no idea how this is going to go down. He pulls out his phone.

 

**To: Saeran**

**(16:19)** I’m here. Let me in.

 

It takes a few moments for Saeran to reply.

 

**To: Yoosung**

**(16:22)** Should be good to come in.

 

Yoosung steels himself as he pushes the door open. He doesn’t want to get angry at Saeran. He doesn’t _like_ being angry. He walks inside and the living room is empty. He guesses Saeran’s probably in his room so he heads over and pushes the door open without bothering to knock. He doesn’t want to get angrier, but Saeran doesn’t exactly deserve politeness right now.

“It’s rude not to knock, you know.” Saeran’s voice comes as a murmur from the direction of his bed, and Yoosung looks over at it. He feels some of his anger disappear at the sight of him. He’s clearly very focused on whatever he’s drawing right now. But wait… Yoosung’s supposed to be at least a little bit angry or Saeran won’t take him seriously. Saeran hasn’t even bothered to look at him yet, and all he does is gesture to the chair at the desk for him to sit down. Yoosung closes the door and folds his arms, opting to stay standing.

“It’s rude to say things like _that_ on Tripter,” he shoots right back.

“That I like puppies? It’s the truth.” Saeran points at some scattered papers on the desk. Yoosung frowns and looks closer. They’re all drawings of different kinds of dogs. Seriously?!

He bites his lip and closes his eyes, willing himself not to let his face go red.

“You’re so frustrating,” he says through gritted teeth, feeling the anger bubbling inside him again as he opens his eyes. “We both know that’s _not_ what you meant.”

“Oh? Did you think I meant you?” Saeran asks, finally glancing up at Yoosung with an infuriating smirk on his stupid face. “I didn’t know you were so conceited.”

Yoosung glares at Saeran.

“Why are you being like this?”

“Why not?” Saeran asks, setting the sketchbook down to his side, along with the pencils. “I’m bored.”

“So… so I’m just someone you can mess around with when you’re bored?!” Yoosung says angrily, and then he realises what he said. “I mean, make fun of. Annoy.” Not mess around with like make out.

“What else can you be?” Saeran asks, a touch of melancholy to his voice. “You made it fairly clear that you want nothing else from me.”

“I… I thought…” Yoosung trails off, his anger suddenly melting away. He takes in a few deep breaths and unfolds his arms. “I thought we could be friends.”

“Can you really be friends with someone you made out with?” Saeran asks, cocking his head to one side. “Who bit you? Who made you hard?” Saeran runs a hand through his hair, staring neutrally at Yoosung. Yoosung feels his face get a little warm. “You don’t seem like the type who can just… move past that.”

“Why not? I… I’ve never done anything like that before. How do you know whether I can or can’t move past that? Maybe I’ll surprise you.” Saeran shrugs and looks to the side.

“If you want to try, we can, I guess.” He seems way more guarded than usual. Maybe Yoosung is looking at this totally wrong. Maybe the tripts were a defence mechanism.

“You guess?” Yoosung says, and he can’t stop some of the hurt leaking into his voice. “You… do you _want_ to be friends?” Saeran sighs and rubs his temples, eyes closed.

“Yoosung, that’s a loaded question with me and you know it,” he says bluntly. “Friendship requires trust. Trust requires someone who isn’t broken. I don’t know if I _can_ be friends with anyone.”

Yoosung takes a step closer, feeling his heart twist. He really did interpret this completely wrong. Saeran’s hurting. He needs to be there for him, not get angry at him.

“You’re not broken, Saeran.” How could he think that? “You can be friends with someone if you let yourself. You don’t have to trust me 100%.”

Saeran’s eyes snap open to glare at him. “Every person I’ve ever _trusted_ has lied, betrayed and left me. Do you think that’s something I can just… forget because you want to be friends?” He pauses and sighs, looking away. “Look, we can hang out, watch Doctor What, draw, whatever your little heart desires, but I can’t promise I’ll ever be friend material.” He sags suddenly on the bed, eyes downcast. Yoosung sits down next to him.

“I consider that being friends. You… you like me, right? Or at least you don’t _hate_ hanging out with me. I think that means we’re friends,” he says hopefully, and to his surprise Saeran snorts.

“I’m mean. Why put yourself through that?”

Yoosung shrugs. “I like you anyway.”

There’s a short pause.

“You’re not very good at being angry, you know that?” Yoosung looks at him in surprise.

“I… I guess it’s different being angry in person than it is online,” he admits. He thinks about Saeran’s tripts, and he feels his anger spike again. “Ugh. Don’t… don’t mention it or I’ll get mad again. I don’t want that.”

“You’re too nice. That’s gonna burn you one day. You _should_ be mad.” Yoosung raises his eyebrows at him.

“You want me to get mad at you?”

“I want you to get mad. Let it all out. I get the feeling you don’t do it often.” Saeran looks at him, mouth slanted into a wry smile. “So do it. Tell me off. Yell at me. Let me see you angry.”

“But… what if you get angry too?” Yoosung asks, and his mind flashes back to what happened last time Saeran was angry around him.

“I’m always angry, remember?” Saeran crosses his legs and picks the sketchbook back up, flipping to a new page. “But I’ll vent my anger onto paper this time.”

Yoosung’s eyes flick down to Saeran’s lips. No, he can’t keep thinking about that.

“I don’t want to get angry.”

“You can’t keep holding everything inside. It’s unhealthy,” Saeran says in a monotone. “At least, that’s what my therapist says, but I hardly keep my shit inside. Not gonna argue with the professionals, are you?” he asks, pointing a pencil at Yoosung. “Vent.”

Yoosung feels incredibly put on the spot. He tries to channel his anger from earlier.

“I… um… I guess… I’m mad about your tripts,” he says uncertainly.

“Is that so, puppy?” Saeran smirks. “What about them upset you?”

“Everything!” Yoosung says, and he pulls his phone out his pocket, opening Tripter and scrolling down his feed. Maybe if he reads them again he’ll remember his anger. “‘Every lost puppy needs a… a master to guide them.’ What the hell, Saeran?” He sees one that particularly made him feel angry before. And it made him feel… other things. But Saeran doesn’t need to know about that. “And ‘bones are good to make upset puppies happy.’ What’s that supposed to mean?” Yoosung knows he shouldn’t be rising to this, but he can’t help it. Saeran asked for it, after all.

“You have no idea what bones could mean?” Saeran’s face lowers slightly as his smirk grows wider and he looks at Yoosung from under his fringe. “Seriously? No ideas at all?”

“No. I…” In spite of himself, Yoosung feels himself blush. “Didn’t you stop to think about how that would make me feel?” He slides his phone back into his pocket and clenches his fists. He’s such a _jerk_.

“How’d they make you feel?” He pauses. “And yeah, I thought about it.”

“They made me feel…” Yoosung doesn’t know how to explain it, and he eventually settles with “exposed.”

“Why?” Saeran quirks an eyebrow. “Didn’t have your name on it. People just assumed I like dogs. Even had my brother try to sell me on cats instead. No one knows who the puppy really is.” He leans toward Yoosung. “Except us, of course.”

Yoosung squirms but he doesn’t move away. He needs to stand his ground of Saeran will think he’s weak and stupid.

“That’s not the _point_ ,” Yoosung says frustratedly. “And I’m not a puppy!”

“If you say so,” Saeran says, leaning back and shrugging so casually it makes Yoosung’s blood boil. “Just make sure to tell your future girlfriend how much you like being called it. I’m sure it’ll be fun.” Yoosung’s fists start shaking.

“I _don’t_ like it,” he says, but even he can hear how weak his voice is.

“Make sure you tell her how you like being restrained too,” Saeran adds on. “A sub for sure.”

“A… a _sub?!_ ” Yoosung cries out. “No! Saeran! I-I’m not! I _don’t_ like being restrained.” This isn’t fair. Why is he blushing? Why does he even care?”

Saeran shrugs again, looking down at his sketchbook with a small grin. He seems to like making Yoosung flustered.

“Just trying to help you out with your tastes.”

Help him out? What the hell does that mean?

“I want to practice more,” Yoosung blurts out and then frowns at himself. That hadn’t been what he’d intended to say. “Wait. No. I don’t. I didn’t say that. Forget I said that.” He shuffles away from Saeran, face burning up. Saeran snickers and he looks back up at him.

“Well? Which is it? You do or you don’t?”

“I…” Yoosung stares at Saeran for a moment, eyes dropping down to his lips for a split second before he grabs his shirt and pulls him into a rough kiss. He jerks away and lets go just as quickly. “I don’t.”

Yoosung watches as Saeran’s tongue darts out to quickly trail across his lower lip, as though savouring the taste of him. God, it’s hot.

“I’m getting mixed signals here,” he says, lowering his voice. “What does puppy want from me?”

“I want… I want you to…” Yoosung clutches the bedsheets in frustration. He wants Saeran to kiss him like he did last time, but he can’t say that. He _shouldn’t_ want to. “I don’t know.”

Saeran leans towards Yoosung over his sketchbook, planting an arm on the mattress to steady himself. He brings his other hand up to grab Yoosung’s chin and roughly turns his face towards him. Yoosung feels his heart racing in his chest and he lets out a quiet gasp of surprise.

“What do you want?” he repeats, staring at him intensely. Yoosung’s eyes drop to Saeran’s lips.

“I want… you to do what you want to me,” he says, voice rough. Saeran’s lips curl into a wicked smile and Yoosung’s heart thumps in anticipation.

“Good puppy,” he murmurs, releasing Yoosung’s chin. He draws back and cocks his head to the side, just looking at him. Yoosung waits for a moment and then frowns in confusion.

“Well? Do it,” he demands. Saeran shakes his head.

“Nah. Not today.” He picks up a pencil and starts drawing again.

“What?!” Yoosung squeaks in disbelief. “Why not?”

“Naughty puppies don’t get what they want,” Saeran says, eyes still on the paper. Is this some kind of joke? Is Saeran making fun of him on purpose?

“I’m not naughty!” Yoosung says, crawling closer. “T-tell me what to do,” he begs.

Saeran glances up at him, a surprised look on his face. He swallows and there’s a beat of silence.

“Jacket. Off.” His voice is already husky. Yoosung leans back so he’s on his knees and pulls his jacket off, tossing it carelessly on the floor. Then he leans back down so he’s on all fours and looks at Saeran expectantly. Saeran exhales hard. “Beg,” he orders.

Yoosung blinks in confusion.

“Beg?” He’s breathing heavily at the thought. Beg for Saeran to kiss him? “Saeran,” he says, voice thick with… something he can’t quite place. “Please kiss me.”

Saeran all but lunges forward, pencils and sketchbook falling to the bed without any attention paid to them. In a second Yoosung’s on his back, hands above his head once more with Saeran smashing their lips together in a kiss full of desperation. Yoosung whimpers with relief as he kisses him back as hard as he can. How did they get here again? Yoosung doesn’t care. He never wants to stop. He wants Saeran to do whatever he wants to him, and he’ll be… a good puppy for him in return. It doesn’t have to leave this room.

Saeran’s hands tighten around Yoosung’s wrists and he bites at his lips. Yoosung lets out a gasp. God, he loves this. He loves when Saeran pins him down like this. He loves feeling like the kiss is completely out of his own hands. Saeran slips his tongue into Yoosung’s mouth and lets out a soft moan. Woah, this feels really good. They didn’t do this last time. Their tongues slide together and Yoosung moans into Saeran’s mouth, trying his best to respond with his own tongue. It’s messy and clumsy but Yoosung can’t get enough. His hips buck up towards Saeran almost instinctively. He’s almost hard already, and it makes him blush.

Saeran pulls out of the kiss panting, and Yoosung sees a grin slowly cross his face.

“Remember the rules about your hands?” he rasps, lowering his body down on top of Yoosung’s and pressing their hips together with a groan. Yoosung moans, trying to muffle it by biting his lip.

“Y-yes,” he pants. “I remember.”

“You may cover your mouth,” Saeran says as he releases Yoosung’s wrists. He brings his hands down to hike Yoosung’s shirt up to his waist. “What did puppy think of the present I gave him last time?” he asks, kissing the bruise on Yoosung’s neck. Yoosung whimpers and brings his hand down, ready to press against his mouth if he needs to moan again.

“I had t-to hide it.”

“Yes, but what did you _think_ about it?” Saeran pushes his body down far enough to nip at Yoosung’s stomach. Yoosung presses his hand over his mouth to muffle the whimpers. “Did you like it? Or would you have liked it if it was hidden?” He nudges his shirt up a little more and nips at the bottom of his ribcage.

“I l-liked it but I… want m-more,” he breathes against his hand. Saeran bites down hard on the same patch of skin he’d just nipped. Yoosung lets out a moan which he has to muffle with his hands.

“Be specific,” he commands. “You want more what?”

“M-more biting,” he begs. Saeran sits up.

“Take off your shirt then,” he says, raising an eyebrow, as though curious to see whether he’ll actually do it. Yoosung looks at Saeran in a dazed surprise as his breaths keep spilling out of him in pants.

“Really?”

Saeran bends back down for a second, placing a bruising kiss to Yoosung’s lips with a growl. When he pulls back he smirks.

“Do you want me to bite you more or not?”

Yoosung feels heat rush to his face and he shakily pushes himself up into a sitting position. He plays with the hem of his shirt for a second before working up his courage and pulling it over his head.

This is all just practice, right?

Saeran’s smirk grows, and his hand lands on Yoosung’s chest to push him back. He trails a finger down.

“Good puppy,” he murmurs before leaning down and licking across Yoosung’s collarbone and biting his shoulder. Yoosung barely has enough time to clamp his hand over his mouth again before he cries out. Why does being bitten feel so good? It’s like the pain mixes with his pleasure in a strange way that shoots right through his body. His hips buck up towards Saeran again. Saeran works around Yoosung’s shoulders and chest, biting and sucking and probably leaving marks as he goes. Yoosung’s eyes are closed, so it takes him by surprise when he feels Saeran nip gently at his nipple. He arches his back and presses his hand hard against his mouth to muffle the loud moan that escapes his lips. God, it feels so good that his other hand almost shoots down to tangle in Saeran’s hair and keep his head there, but he remembers the rules. Saeran pulls back.

“Ooh, puppy likes that,” he says. He moves over to the other nipple and bites a little harder. Yoosung arches his back and moans again and bucks his hips clumsily. This time his hand does fly down, but he manages to avoid Saeran’s hair at the last moment and clutch the bedsheets next to him instead. One of Saeran’s hands slides down between their bodies until it stops right on Yoosung’s dick, rubbing at it firmly. Yoosung lets out a long, low moan and presses himself into Saeran’s hand as hard as he can.

“F-fuck,” he whimpers. Saeran’s own hips buck with a groan, but then he withdraws his hand and trails it along the outside of Yoosung’s thigh, and he whines in complaint and desperately bucks his hips up again.

“Bad puppy,” he husks, tongue trailing across Yoosung’s chest. “No swearing.”

“I’m s-sorry, Saeran, p-please…”

“Please what?” Saeran growls, nibbling at the hollow of Yoosung’s throat. “What do you want?”

Yoosung feels his entire body burning with embarrassment. It’s one thing to have Saeran do things to him, but to ask for things… it’s like claiming responsibility for it himself so he can’t deny he wants it.

“P-please… can you…” He clutches the sheets harder. “T-touch me.”

Yoosung feels Saeran smirk against Yoosung’s skin.

“Touch you?” His hands slide torturously slowly across Yoosung’s thighs. “Like this?” He lightly brushes across the jeans, barely enough for him to even feel it. Yoosung looks up at Saeran desperately and shivers at the light touch. Saeran’s propped up on his elbow, just watching him.

“M-more,” he begs. Saeran increases the pressure of his hand, but only slightly. He raises his eyebrows, mouth curled wickedly. Yoosung brings his hand up and clutches at the sheets above his head again, his other hand still by his mouth just in case he needs to stop any noises. “Saeran,” he whines as he raises his hips to try and increase the pressure. His whine seems to push Saeran over the edge, because he suddenly smashes their lips together, finally pressing down firmly on Yoosung’s dick. He yelps in surprise at the sudden sensations, but the noise quickly turns into a moan as he tries to move his crotch against Saeran’s hand to get some kind of friction. Saeran grinds his palm down against him for a while as he bites and licks and kisses Yoosung’s lips roughly. Then he withdraws his hand again to crawl up to the top of Yoosung’s jeans and pop open the button. Yoosung gasps. “S-Saeran,” he whimpers against his lips. It feels like he has electricity shooting through his entire body.

Is he ready for this? Is it right to do this? He had been planning on saving things like this for his first relationship, but… he’d been planning on saving his first kiss for that too. Why would this be any different? It’s just… practice, but he can’t even remember what for. His body is screaming at him to let Saeran do this, and the reasons why he shouldn’t seem to be getting further and further away.

“Something wrong?” Saeran murmurs, fingers tugging down the zipper. He slides his hand under the jeans and over his underwear, and Yoosung lets out a loud gasp. Saeran’s touching him through nothing more than the thin layer of his boxers. He throws his head back and clutches the sheets more tightly.

“N-no,” he stammers in response to the question.

“Good.” Saeran rolls off Yoosung and strokes Yoosung’s shaft through the cloth. He latches onto Yoosung’s shoulder with his lips again and sucks hard. Yoosung presses his hand against his mouth to muffle the broken moans.

“Am I b-being good?”

“Very good,” Saeran praises as he releases the skin. “You deserve a reward for being such a good puppy.” He moves his hand a little faster, a little rougher. “What should your reward be, I wonder?” Saeran glances at his hand shoved down Yoosung’s unbuttoned jeans and licks his lips. “I can think of a few things…” Yoosung tries desperately to control his moans.

“Anything y-you want,” he gasps.

“Anything? That’s a dangerous statement, puppy.” He leans down to whisper in his ear. “Lucky for you, I’m a simple man.” Saeran takes his hand and slips it under Yoosung’s underwear without any warning and wraps it firmly around his dick, starting to stroke him slowly. Yoosung’s so surprised he can’t even moan, and instead lets out a high-pitched whimper. His head is spinning and his entire body is burning as he bucks up into Saeran’s hand desperately. His hand is warm and… god, it feels so good to have someone else touch him like that.

“F-f…” He’s about to swear but then he remembers he’s not supposed to. “Saeran,” he groans instead.

“You know what I’d really like to do?” Saeran growls, panting hotly by Yoosung’s ear. “I want to take your hard dick and run my tongue up it, around it. Taste you.”

“G-god. Do whatever you want t-to me,” he begs. He’s already getting close just from this, and the feeling of Saeran’s breath brushing his ear like that is almost enough to push him over the edge. He lets out a whine and arches his back a little.

“I want to take you in my mouth, swallow you down, make you come undone from my tongue and mouth alone.” He pauses and Yoosung feels him grind his own hips down against the mattress. “But that’s a special reward for when you’re being a _very_ good puppy.” He speeds up his strokes. Yoosung presses his hand harder against his mouth to muffle the loud moan that spills out. He pulls it away just long enough to speak.

“S-Saeran, I’m g-gonna…” He presses it back over as he feels the pleasure start building up inside him. Maybe he should feel embarrassed that he’s getting to this point so quickly, but right now he really doesn’t care.

“Good. Cum for me, puppy. Let me see you.” Saeran bites at Yoosung’s ear and then leans back up on his elbow, watching Yoosung through half-lidded eyes. It only takes a few more seconds for Yoosung to come completely undone. He clutches at the sheets above his head and bucks his hips up, arching his back as he screws his eyes shut and lets out a loud moan, muffled by his hand. He cums hard into Saeran’s fist and his boxers, and Saeran moans softly as he does and continues to work him through his orgasm. For some reason, knowing Saeran’s watching him like this makes the feeling even better. He briefly wonders what his face looks like.

“Such a good puppy,” Saeran coos into his ear. “So good for me.”

Yoosung pants heavily and whimpers as he comes back down from his high, and before he knows what he’s doing, he’s grabbed Saeran’s head and pulled him in for a rough, sloppy kiss. Saeran withdraws his hand, leaning on that elbow and bringing the other hand up to run through Yoosung’s hair as he returns the harshness of the kiss. It doesn’t take long before Yoosung has to pull away to regain his breath.

“G-God,” he whispers. Saeran smirks, and god, he’s so hot like this.  His white hair is hanging down in his face and his sharp green eyes are gazing directly at him. It’s the most relaxed and open he thinks he’s ever seen him before, and his face is even slightly flushed. Saeran sits up and grabs a box of tissues he has on his bedside table.

“Clean up,” he orders as he starts wiping off his own hand.

Yoosung’s still in a daze as he reaches down his boxers with a tissue and wipes up as best as he can. His hands are shaking from the aftereffects of his orgasm. “Should I d-do something for you?” he offers. Saeran glances at Yoosung with a smirk.

“Not today,” he says, wagging a finger. “Maybe someday but not today.”

Yoosung can feel the realisation of what just happened starting to dawn on him, and he pulls the tissue out of his pants and sits up, head still spinning.

“Did… did that just…?” He trails off uncertainly.

“Yes, it did,” Saeran says, snickering and looking at Yoosung curiously. Yoosung stares at the wall and brings a hand up to run his fingers through his hair. He can feel it starting to build inside himself. His first sexual encounter was with… Saeran. A guy. His eyes widen and he quickly reaches out to grab his shirt, holding it against his bare chest.

“Why?!” he squeaks, “Why did we…? Why would…? What?!” Saeran just laughs.

“You asked, I delivered,” he answers. “Not that big of a deal.” Yoosung pulls his shirt over his head as quickly as he can.

“No! I… I didn’t!” he says, but he suddenly realises that’s not true. Everything Saeran did, he had asked for. _Begged_ for. He stands up off the bed. “I… I can’t believe this! I came here to get you to stop with the tripts and then you j-just–”

“Yoosung,” Saeran cuts Yoosung off before he can finish that thought, his voice suddenly taking on a sharp edge. “Don’t even _try_ to do that. I may be many things, terrible things, but I did nothing to you that you didn’t ask for.” Saeran stands as well, grabbing Yoosung’s jacket and tossing it to him. He’s not quick enough to catch it before it falls to the floor. He quickly bends down and picks it up. “So don’t you dare make me out to be the bad guy when I’m not for once.”

“I’m not… I’m not gay,” Yoosung says, tears forming in his eyes as he takes a step back from Saeran. He knows he’s being unreasonable, but all these feelings… everything inside him is so confusing right now and he doesn’t know what to do.

“Keep telling yourself this is all for ‘practice’ then,” Saeran snarks, using overly exaggerated air quotes. “Not like it matters to me.”

“I-I’m leaving, and this isn’t going to happen again,” he stammers, not looking at Saeran as he grabs hold of the door handle. “And y-you can’t tell anyone.”

“And no cryptic tripts about puppies or you’ll come tell me off again, right?” Saeran sneers at Yoosung. He’s obviously pissed off, and any openness Yoosung had seen just a moment ago is entirely gone. He feels his heart lurch painfully. “Just go.”

“No tripts,” Yoosung confirms, pulling the door open. “Nothing. Just… f-forget this ever happened.” He rushes out the door, letting the tears loose and allowing them to run down his face as he runs to leave the bunker.

That had not gone the way he’d planned.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A trip to the carnival has some interesting results

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By StarlingHawke

**Saeran**

“Hey, Saeran!”

The lead pressed to the paper snaps when Saeran jumps, surprised by the sudden intrusion of his room. With a groan, he drops the pencil on the desk and rests his head in his hand, eyes falling closed. Already cursed with a headache and some simmering anger, he’s not in any real rush to deal with any other issues today. And whenever his brother pops in like this, there’s usually at least one thing he’s expected to do.

“What do you _want,”_ he asks, though it comes out more a growled statement than an actual question. Patience, patience, what is patience and why should he waste such a limited commodity on his idiot brother?

“Oh, just curious what your opinion on carnivals is~” comes the sing song voice Saeran could really do without. What’s he talking about? Carnivals?

“How the fuck should I know? Never been to one.”

When he finally glances up, it’s to see Saeyoung leaning against his doorframe with a look Saeran can’t quite place on his face. Concern? Curiosity? “Well, would you like to go to one?” Saeyoung asks in an overly-casual voice, tilting his head and smiling at him.

Saeran snorts. “With you? Not fucking likely.”

“Ow, shot straight through the heart.” Placing a hand on his chest, Saeyoung pins Saeran with a wounded look. “My own brother refuses to have fun with me.” The smile returns but this time there’s a plastic quality to it; a tiny amount of guilt flares but Saeran stomps it back out. If anyone deserves his ire, it’s his twin. “Anyway, no, it’s not with me. Yoosung wanted to know if you could go with him.”

The very fact that Yoosung had to ask _permission_ to take him out makes Saeran’s mood turn fouler. Take him out on a walk, like a god damned dog. Saeran’s hand clenches on the desk but he wills himself not to dwell on that right now; there’s something else to consider first.

“Yoosung asked if I could go with him?” Saeran repeats slowly, needing confirmation that his ears have not betrayed him. There’s been complete radio silence between them since the time Yoosung stomped over to the bunker to tell him off and ended up getting jerked off instead a little over a week ago. Not that Saeran’s necessarily _tried_ to get in contact with him, but there hasn’t been any vague tripts or anything. This is an interesting development. Does it mean he’s finally beginning to accept that he likes men?

“Yeeeeup. Just got off the phone with him. Do you wanna go?”

Saeran considers it. The carnival, filled with food and rides and supposed fun. There’s also people. Is it worth the risk of becoming overwhelmed? On one hand, not really because having a breakdown in public could be very, very bad and he’s not convinced Yoosung can handle him at his worst. But on the other, he’s so fucking _bored_. Going outside would be a refreshing change of pace and god, he’s missed the clouds. “Yeah. I do.”

Saeyoung’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Pushing off the door, he shoves his hands in his pockets and gives Saeran a long, discerning look. “I’ll let him know th-”

“No!” Even Saeran’s taken aback by how forceful his response is. “I’ll text him. You just leave us alone.”

“Yeaaaah, can’t really do that, bro. I’ll go get stuff ready for you.”

Like a little baby whose father has to pack the diaper bag for him. Saeran scoffs and turns back to the paper, dismissing his brother without a word. The phone in his pocket remains untouched until he can no longer hear footsteps. For a moment, he stares at the blank screen. Why does he feel nervous about this? There’s no reason to be about contacting Yoosung. It’s just a text. A simple text to make sure that he actually wants Saeran to go with him.

Stupid. Shaking his head, Saeran unlocks it and pushes forward.

**To: Pupsung**

**(10:21)** Why is idiot talking about me going to a carnival with you?  
**(10:22)** Didn't know we were still on speaking terms.

The next text takes long enough to come through that Saeran thinks maybe Saeyoung was just teasing him. Unexplained relief floods through him when his phone pings to let him know Yoosung responded.

**To: Saeran**

**(10:30)** Oh! Saeran, I was just about to text you.  
**(10:35)** I thought we could still be friends, maybe?  
**(10:36)** I wanted to take you out the bunker

**To: Pupsung**

**(10:36)** oh.  
**(10:37)** okay.  
**(10:37)** when?

**To: Saeran**

**(10:39)** Whenever you want!  
**(10:40)** I could come over later today to get you? Around 3?

**To: Pupsung**

**(10:42)** that's fine.

So Yoosung is still chasing after friendship, huh. Is that a good or a bad thing? Saeran’s not completely sure, all he knows is there’s an odd sense of calm settling in his chest due to knowing that Yoosung hasn’t completely written him off.

Of course, it’s possible that he’s also chasing after those kisses he can’t get from anyone else. Maybe “to practice,” maybe to try to explore what it means about him or just because he likes it. Saeran snickers quietly, setting his phone down when it’s obvious Yoosung isn’t going to respond again. The kid is obviously into men, even if he won’t admit it. The way he responds to Saeran, the way he melts underneath him and the noises he makes… There’s no way he’s straight.

Not that Saeran cares, of course. He couldn’t give less of a shit about the puppy’s sexual preferences. All it is is some fun and play for him, after all. Just a way to pass the time, to help relieve boredom. Not to mention the satisfaction of watching someone fall to pieces while he works them over is alluring when it’s the only thing he’s good at. The amount of control he has over his life is so limited right now and messing with Yoosung gives him control over something, no matter how temporary. The control to deny or grant his orgasm, to choose where to bite, to tease or not. What kind of kiss they do, how long it’s for, if he pulls his hair just to hear those whimpers that shoot straight through him and make him want to-

Saeran shakes his head, frustrated with himself. This is not a train of thought he needs to indulge himself in right now. No, he should be finding a way to relieve himself of the pounding in his head and get ready. No doubt Saeyoung’s going to take up most of his time with fussing. Pushing his chair back from the desk, Saeran stands, rubbing his temples. Time to get moving.

-oOo-

The next time Saeran’s phone dings, he doesn’t have the ability to answer (or even to look at it) as Saeyoung clucks and tsks, looking him over from head-to-toe for at least the fifth time in the last ten minutes. There’s no doubt that it’s Yoosung stating that he’s arrived, but Saeran first has to escape the mother hen his brother has become in order to do anything about it.

The tug on his bag causes him to twirl around and meet Saeyoung face-to-face, shoving his chest and muttering for him to go away. The bag is slung over his shoulder, sketchbook and assorted pencils inside along with a stress ball he's never seen before, an extra dose of his as-needed anxiety medicine, his wallet (containing money for once) and far too detailed instructions Seven wrote out for Yoosung 'just in case.' Like he's a fucking pet. Fantastic.

"If you feel like you're getting too stressed, make sure you tell Yoosung!" Saeyoung says for the fourth time. “He’ll call me or bring you home so nothing happens.”

As though Yoosung is _actually_ capable of handling a full-scale meltdown if it occurs. Saeran rolls his eyes, beyond done with his brother. "Fuck off," he grumps, pushing him off when he attempts a hug. "I'm not a kid." With that, he turns and walks to the door, Saeyoung following close behind. When he opens it, Yoosung's on the other side, staring up at the camera. "Let's get out of here."

"Hey, Saeran!" Yoosung greets, turning to look at him when he speaks. His eyes flick over Saeran’s shoulder curiously. "Oh, hey Seven!"

"Hey, Yoosung," Saeyoung says, trying for another sneak hug only to get his hands slapped away. "Saeran's got everything he might need in his bag, so if anything happens, just check in there and then call me."

"Shut. Up." Saeran growls, gently shoving Yoosung forward a little before slamming the door shut in his brother's face. Heaving a weary sigh, he runs a hand through his hair and glances at Yoosung. "He treats me like a fucking invalid. I'm not. Let's just go." Without waiting for a response, he steps around Yoosung and starts walking toward the sidewalk. It’s time to get the hell away from this prison.

Yoosung’s footsteps are only a few seconds delayed and he falls into step with Saeran quickly. "I don't think anything will go wrong," he says with a smile. "I think he's just worried about you."

"He can worry about something else," Saeran grumbles, shoving his hands in his pockets. The extra dose of medicine was his own idea, but after the last hour of ceaseless lecturing about not running off or being purposefully mean to Yoosung, Saeran would be content not to see his twin for at least the next few months. "So. What do people do at carnivals?" It’s a little embarrassing to admit he has no idea anything about them, but it’s not as though he’s exactly lived a life where things like _fun_ and _friends_ fit in before.

Yoosung’s smile grows larger. "There are a bunch of games and rides we can do if you want to. Oh, and there's food, like candyfloss and ice cream! It's just... it's a really cool thing to do. I thought you might like it."

Ice cream? That gets his attention more than anything else. While this trip is primarily an excuse to get out of the bunker, the involvement of his favorite food makes it sound much more enjoyable. The games and rides, however… he’s not too sure about them. He’ll have to decide when they get there.

Falling back just enough to make sure Yoosung’s the one leading them, Saeran tilts his head up to the sky, blinking in the bright sunlight. The weather is gorgeous, warm but not too hot, a few clouds floating in the sky to capture his attention. It feels like it's been forever since he's seen them.

"So, um... what have you been up to recently?"

Saeran keeps watching the clouds as they float lazily by while he considers Yoosung's question. "Not much, really. Drawing. Therapy. Same shit as usual. You?"

"Mostly just school, to he honest." There’s a pause before a forced cough causes him to gaze quizzically at Yoosung. "Yeah. Classes and homework and boring stuff.” Yoosung seems to pointedly avoid looking at him. Weird.

"What dull lives we both live," Saeran says in a bored tone, a strange urge hitting him. Confused, he slowly takes a hand out of his pocket and reaches over to ruffle Yoosung's hair. God, it’s as soft as he remembers. This is okay, right? He’s done way more than this and he’s seen Saeyoung do it to Yoosung hundreds of times. "Need to find some way to spice it up before we die of boredom."

Yoosung squeaks, glancing at Saeran with comically wide eyes. "Spice it up how?"

"Your guess is as good as mine." Saeran withdraws his hand and shrugs. "You have freedom, at least. Go out, have fun, date, whatever." All things that he’s never had interest in, but having the ability to do it ripped away from him still stings. Shoving his hand back in his pocket, he lets out a long-suffering sigh. "I dunno what I can do."

There’s a small pause. "Well... maybe this can be the first step to getting Seven more comfortable with you going outside?" Yoosung suggests hopefully. "Then you'll be able to do whatever you want."

"That would be nice..." Saeran murmurs, cocking his head at a cloud. They’re going to run out of things to talk about pretty quickly at the rate they’re going; they don’t really have much in common and Saeran hasn’t watched enough Doctor What to really feel like he can manage a conversation on it. What can he do to make the time pass without fucking things up? There has to be a way…

The answer comes to him quicker than he expects. Nudging Yoosung in the side, he points at a cloud. “Hey. That cloud looks like that fucking Longcat Saeyoung’s obsessed with.”

After shooting him a surprised glance, Yoosung looks up in the direction of his finger. "Huh, it kinda does," he says after a moment, breaking into a smile. It takes a moment of scanning the sky before he points to another cloud. "And that one looks like a monkey."

Saeran snorts when he spots it. "A weird looking monkey, but yeah, a monkey." This impulse to tease... does it mean he's actually cultivating a friendship? Does he actually want to do that? Eh, whatever. Saeran's eyes search the sky until it lands on one cloud in particular and he snickers. "That one right above those trees looks like a..." he pauses, eyes sliding to the side to look at Yoosung, "...dog."

A deep red paints Yoosung’s cheeks in less than a few seconds. There’s a long pause before he responds in a remarkably steady voice."I think it looks like a dinosaur."

"A dinosaur. What kind?" Saeran asks curiously, squinting at the cloud. Is Yoosung serious, or is he just attempting to not acknowledge the term ‘dog’? It’s not like Saeran made the cloud look like that, he doesn’t have fucking cloud-shaping powers hidden that he uses to tease Yoosung.

"A... um... a... stegosaurus."

"...a stegosaurus." Saeran throws Yoosung a look of bored disbelief. "You do realize I said dog on purpose instead of the other word, right?"

The blush deepens as once again Yoosung averts his eyes. "Let's not talk about dogs," he mumbles.

Oh my god, is he for real? Saeran stares at Yoosung a moment before bursting into laughter. "Wow, okay. Yeah, I'll avoid talking about them then." Apparently any words having to do with the canine family are now off-limits because he’d called Yoosung ’puppy’ when giving him a handjob. How fucking hilarious.

Yoosung takes a deep breath, still avoiding looking at him. "Thanks," he mumbles.

It feels good to laugh in earnest after so long, even if it’s at the expense of someone else. Saeran brings his hand up to wipe away the tears that accumulated from his laughter. "Ah, anyway. It's good to be outside again." It’s amazing how something as mundane as a walk can feel like a brand-new experience after so long. All the cars, the buildings, the colors around him are amazing. It feels like it’s the first time again.

"We're almost there now," Yoosung says, his normal excited demeanor back in place as he points up ahead of them. “See all those people? They must be going to the carnival too."

Oh. Right. The people. In his desperation to get away from his brother, Saeran had forgotten that it was entirely possible this place would be too crowded for him. Anxiety starts to prick at his chest and he tugs at the sleeve of his sweater uncomfortably. "Will it be crowded?" Too many people could lead to too much touch and a consequential breakdown.

Yoosung glances over at him, and Saeran can see out of the corner of his eye the worry lining his face. "I don't think it'll be too bad," he says in assurance. "We can always just try and stay in the quieter areas."

"That'd be good." Saeran sighs, still wary. If it’s not one thing, it’s another. What’s it like to be a normal person who doesn’t have to worry about their ability to function properly at all times? What he wouldn’t give to know the answer to that.

They pass a large building and turn the corner, revealing the carnival in its entirely. Saeran hisses in a breath in surprise and awe; he’s never seen so many rides in one area. There’s a big wheel, what amounts to a smaller roller coaster, and a boat…? That tips upside down? He’s not too sure about that one. His eyes flick from place to place, trying to take them all in.

A giggle draws his attention to Yoosung, who points over his shoulder. "Would you want to go on the Ferris Wheel?!" he asks excitedly.

Saeran follows Yoosung's finger to the large circle, eyes widening as he sees the seats dangling from it as it turns round. "Uhhh..." It moves slowly, never speeding up, never taking the riders upside down. All-in-all, not scary… right? He chews his lip for a moment, thinking. It should be okay. He should be fine. "Yeah, let's... let's try it."

Yoosung glances at Saeran. "We don't have to if you don't want to! It's not too bad, really, but it's ok if you'd rather do something else."

"No, no, I want... I want to try it," Saeran says, relieved that he manages to sound confident this time around. He’s never been so high before, not even in a building. His anxiety twinges again, filling him with trepidation but still, he’s determined to try. There are literal children on it; he’s not about to be outdone by a bunch of brats.

"Okay," Yoosung says, flashing him a large grin. "Let's get in the queue."

The line isn’t incredibly long, but the ride doesn’t seem to be over yet for the people still on it. Saeran watches as the wheel slowly spins, people of all ages peering out of the cart at the area surrounding them. It must have a fantastic view, being so high up in the air. Even with his anxiety threatening to ruin it, Saeran’s honestly sort of excited to give it a try.

The soft touch of Yoosung’s hand on his shoulder brings him back down to the world he’s standing on. “Hey, if you need anything at all today, just let me know, okay? I want to help,” comes the voice, a strange mix of loud and quiet, as though Yoosung wants to keep the conversation between them even though he needs to talk over all the noise.

A sigh slips out of Saeran before he fully realizes it, but it’s pretty indicative of how he feels about this particular subject. “I _know,_ Yoosung. You’re always so eager to help.” The hurt that crosses Yoosung’s face stings for some reason, so he quickly adds on “it’s not a bad thing, it’s just the way you are.” The response is almost automatic in a way that worries him just a little; when did he start caring about if his words stung?

Yoosung observes him for a moment before breaking into a grin. "Hmm, maybe I should try harder to be edgy. Then you can't make fun of me."

Saeran snorts, rolling his eyes and shrugging his bag back up on his shoulder. "Haven't we been over this? I doubt you could be edgy if you tried, Yoosung. You're too cute."

"You should teach me!" Yoosung insists. The line moves forward as those currently on the ride trade for those waiting. "You're cute, too."

Cute? That’s… Baffled, Saeran blinks slowly once, then twice. "I'm... not," he says in confusion. "Not cute. But... maybe I'll mess around with you sometime to see if you can be a cute-edgy combo. You're not opposed to eyeliner, are you?" A raise of an eyebrow and a hopefully successful subtle shift of the subject of this conversation off of him.

"You are cute." Fuck. That didn’t work. Yoosung raises his eyebrows and his grin widens. "And... hm, eyeliner. I've never worn it before. Maybe it'll suit me."

Saeran flicks his wrist dismissively, looking away. "Whatever." He's _not_ cute. Why does Yoosung keep insisting on something that isn’t true? Is it a matter of taste? "I'll put some on you sometime." Finally, it's their turn. The seat comes to a halt, hovering just over the ground while an elderly couple climb out, lacing hands and walking away cheerfully. At first he doesn’t move, nearly petrified by the idea of letting this clearly unstable cart carry him up high enough that there’s no safe way to fall. The operator waves at them impatiently and Saeran snaps out of it, huffing softly as he walks up and carefully climbs in.

It’s not long before Yoosung is scooting into the seat next to him, though leaving a gap between them. "I think I'll look more edgy than you,” he declares, still grinning.

"Oh?" Amused laughter rings through the cart, stopping as soon as it starts to move. Saeran grips the bar in front of them, eyes wide as he continues to speak. "We'll have to think of something else to do with that hair."

"My hair?" Yoosung runs a hand through his hair, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Like what?"

Saeran dares to let go of the bar with one hand to reach over and tug lightly on a strand. "Dunno. But it screams 'cute' right now so we'd have to style it differently. Maybe without the clips would be enough. Find you a leather jacket. Yeah. You could maybe pull off cute edgy."

Yoosung rolls his eyes. "What are you, the edgy overlord? I don't have to be 'cute' edgy! I can be edgy edgy."

"Not a chance you can be edgy edgy," Saeran says with a snicker. "You're just too cute to pull it off."

"I'm not! There's more to me than just being cute."

"I'm sure there is, but I'm talking about your looks, kid. Big eyes like that, bursting with excitement and innocence? That cute little smile? It's just how you are."

Red creeps across Yoosung’s cheeks, bringing a smirk to Saeran’s face even as he folds his arms and pouts. "I can be edgy. And you can't call me kid! You're not that much older than me," he huffs.

"I'll call you want I want." Those nine months between them seems to span far longer due to their difference in personalities and experiences. Saeran finds himself considering some people older than him ‘kids’ due to their disposition. "You don't like the other nickname I have for you, so you can deal with this."

The pout is wiped away only to be replaced by a frown. "My name is Yoosung. Can't you call me that? I just call you Saeran."

“Whatever. Fine.” By now, Saeran’s distracted with watching the ground creep away. The ache in his lip tells him he’s chewing on it far too hard, but he can’t seem to stop as he scans the horizon. Thankfully his anxiety has plateaued but even so, he's breathing a little quicker than usual. Being up this high is filling him with a weird sort of excitement he’s never felt before. Some sort of adrenaline? He’s not sure.

"It's pretty cool, right?" Yoosung asks softly. "Everyone looks so small from up here."

It is cool. "Like ants," Saeran muses. A thought flits through his mind and he slides his eyes to the side to look at Yoosung. He’s peering over the edge in fascination, seemingly content. This might be the chance to draw out Yoosung’s true opinion on his character that Saeran’s been waiting for. Insinuate something that can be taken badly, and see how Yoosung reacts. So he casually brings up a desire to have a magnifying glass with him, curious about if it would work well up this high.

It certainly gets Yoosung’s attention. He snaps back around and looks at Saeran in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“What do you think I mean?”

Yoosung folds his arms, furrowing his eyebrows. "I don't know. That's why I'm asking." He looks down at the people and then back to Saeran. "I think you're messing with me on purpose."

"Do you want me to mess with you?"

"That's not the point!" Yoosung says with a pout, shaking his head and turning away. "If you don't stop, I'll rock us."

"You'll rock us?" Saeran asks in confusion, turning to look at Yoosung. "What...?"

Yoosung leans back quickly, just enough to rock their seat a little. "Like this, but worse," he says with a mischievous grin.

In less than a second Saeran's hands are grasping the bar in front of them tight enough to turn his knuckles white, a look of surprise and mild terror on his face. "You're right," he whispers, eyes wide as he stares straight ahead. "I was messing with you. I was curious to see what you'd say."

"I knew it. I'm smarter than you think! And I have the power up here!" Saeran dares to glance over to see Yoosung tapping his temple.

Growling softly, Saeran reaches over and shoves Yoosung playfully. "Don't be a brat," he says, a smile flitting across his face. "It's unbecoming."

Yoosung grins widely. "I'll be a brat if I want to be. You can't stop me!"

"Don't challenge me," Saeran says, scooting closer to Yoosung with a glint in his eye. "I can stop you easily if need me."

Yoosung's grin doesn't falter. "Oh yeah? Well, I can just rock this again."

"Don't you fucking dare," Saeran threatens, hands back on the bar. "Don't you fucking dare do that."

"Who's gonna stop me?"

"You'll pay when we get back to the ground if you do!”

For a while they bicker and back and forth playfully, Saeran going as far as threatening to bite Yoosung, surprised when Yoosung returns the threat. The ride moves slowly, both of them pausing occasionally to watch the ground approach and then become smaller again. It’s a surprising amount of fun for such a simple thing.

When they reach the top, Saeran grins down at the people below them, feeling free for once. "I can't believe I've never done this before,” he whispers. “Is it... more fun when this rocks?"

"Probably not. I just like doing it to scare people."

Turning to look at him, Saeran stares at Yoosung blankly for a moment before bursting into laughter. "There's a bit of a dick underneath that nice guy persona, huh?" What a delightful surprise; Yoosung isn't all niceness and fluff.

Yoosung cocks his head to the side. "I told you there's more to me than just being cute!"

"I have to admit I'm curious what else you're hiding in there," Saeran says, poking Yoosung's nose. "You keep surprising me."

Yoosung blinks in surprise, eyes crossing a moment before his face breaks into a smile. "Maybe I'll surprise you, and one day I'll be more edgy than you!"

Snickering, Saeran shakes his head. "I doubt you'll pull _that_ off. But I'd like to see you try."

Falling into what is by now a familiar argument, the rest of the ride passes with Yoosung saying he is very capable of being edgy, thank you very much while Saeran snorts and points out all the reasons Yoosung’s stuck being cute. Each veiled compliment causes Yoosung’s face to grow redder and redder until Saeran’s not sure he could possibly turn a deeper shade unless he were to become a tomato. It’s fun. It’s far more fun that Saeran anticipated, and he finds that he truly does enjoy hanging out with Yoosung.

Eventually the ride comes to a stop and they get out, walking away while still laughing. When Yoosung asks for Saeran’s opinion on what to do next, Saeran deflects it by asking what his favorite ride is. Truth be told, Saeran has no idea what else is here or what he’d be interested in.

"Hmm..." Yoosung thinks for a moment, tapping his chin. "Honestly, I like them all. I think my favourite thing is probably the bumper cars."

"Bumper cars? Is that literally what it sounds like?"

"Yep! You sit in a little car and you get to bump into other people's cars to knock them out the way. It's super fun.”

"Is that here? Can we do that?" Wow, Saeran never would’ve expected something like that to be an activity the public engages in. His eyes light up in excitement as he looks at Yoosung, waiting for an answer.

"Yeah! I'd love that!"

"Cool." A grin fights to appear on his face, so he bites his lip and looks away to try to hide it. Yeah, he’s having fun, but that doesn’t mean Yoosung has to know it.

"They're usually over here." Yoosung gestures over to the left and starts walking."Do you want to share a car, or do you want separate ones?"

Saeran considers the question for a moment. "...probably share. At least, for the first time.” Despite how much fun it sounds, he can’t be sure something won’t trigger him. Best to let Yoosung be in charge until he’s certain it’s safe for him.

"Okay, sure," Yoosung says with a smile. "Here they are." He gestures to a large tent in front of them.

Saeran cranes his neck to see, watching as the cars drive around and bump into each other. They actually move faster than he expected, and he watches a few kids collide gleefully. They look fun. Dangerous. He glances at Yoosung. "...you should probably drive, too."

Yoosung grins. "Sure. I like to think I'm pretty good at it."

"Prove it, then," Saeran issues as a challenge, crossing his arms. "Show me your skills at bumper cars."

"Oh, I will!" Yoosung quickly pays for a car and they make their way over to the free cars, choosing a dark blue one. Sliding into the passenger seat, Saeran’s eyes dart all around, taking in how everything’s set up. When Yoosung climbs in as well, it’s obvious the cars were meant for kids and not adults. Their arms and hips are squished against each other.

Yoosung shoots him a worried glance. "Is this okay?"

"It's fine," Saeran states without a second thought. "You typically don't seem to cause me pain. Yet." Saeran shifts a bit in embarrassment when he sees that bring a smile to Yoosung’s face.

"Good, I'm glad. We have to wait for everyone else first. Then they'll start the cars.”

"Mmm. Don't want us running people over, I take it," Saeran deadpans.

Yoosung snorts. "As much fun as that would be, I think we'd get in trouble for that."

"Oh?" Saeran smirks at Yoosung. "Are you a law-abiding citizen, Yoosung?"

"Of course I am. Oh! We're starting!" Yoosung leans forward, and suddenly they’re moving.

Perking up, Saeran continues to look all around them. "Can't be edgy if you're not willing to break a few rules," he teases.

Yoosung gathers some speed and smashes the car into another. Saeran’s a little caught off guard by how much it actually shakes him physically. Yoosung smiles at him. "If this isn't edgy, I don't know what is," he jokes. This is quite possibly the least edgy thing they could be doing. They're surrounded by kids half their age squealing.

The urge to laugh loudly is hard to resist as they keep driving and crashing, driving and crashing. It’s amazing how much Saeran enjoys it, considering it’s not really all that complicated of a setup. Apparently he likes the simple things. Yoosung’s also having fun, not bothering to stifle any squeals and giggles as he drives, bringing a soft smile to Saeran’s face. With every bump, the soft blond hair flies out before settling back down, emitting some sort of siren’s song to Saeran’s fingers to touch it, to run them through it. He nearly does until he feels the car slowing down, jerking his hand back and looking at Yoosung in confusion. All the cars are stopping. Damn, it’s over already.

They climb out and exit, walking far enough away to be able to hear each other. Yoosung grins at him. "How did you like that?"

"It was..." _Awesome. Fun. Fan-fucking-tastic._ Saeran takes a breath and calms himself down. "Alright.”

Yoosung rolls his eyes and gives him a look that reads “I know you loved it” but Saeran just shoves his hands in his pockets and ignores it, choosing instead to survey the area around them. His eyes land on a booth selling some sort of colorful confection that people are buying and eating. All it takes is an inquiry and a short explanation for Saeran to all but drag Yoosung over, desperate to try this thing called ‘candyfloss’. It sounds delicious. As they approach, it becomes apparent it’s just one booth of many and the crowd of people is far more packed than it appeared to be from a distance. Saeran slows then halts completely, eyes flitting from person to person warily. Does he dare?

Yoosung must catch on to the issue fairly quickly. "I could get it while you wait here?" he offers with little hesitation. It’s oddly reassuring knowing that he remembers the problems Saeran has with touch.

"If you want," Saeran mumbles, glancing down at his feet. He hates being weak like this, needing someone to go fetch some candy for him so he doesn’t break down into the useless lump of human he is.

“It’s okay. I really don’t mind.”

Sighing, Saeran raises his head and nods. “Thanks.” He takes a breath to steady himself, then catches the eye of someone who’s blatantly staring at them. Tall, dark hair and a chiseled face to die for. With a smirk, Saeran cocks his head to the side, acknowledging him. “Looks like there’s another reason for me to stay here, anyway.”

"Huh?" Yoosung asks, looking around in confusion. "What is it? Why are you...?"

Lifting a chin in the direction of the man, Saeran raises an eyebrow at Yoosung. "There's a guy over there who's been watching us for a while. I think he wants to approach one of us but I don't know which. So, on top of getting candy to try, we get to find out who he's eyeing up."

Yoosung spins around without an ounce of subtleness as he looks for the guy. "Why is he looking at us? I don't like it."

"Yoosung," Saeran growls, grabbing his shoulders and turning him back to face him quickly. "I'm pretty sure he's interested in one of us."

"I don't like it," Yoosung says again, a strange expression crossing his face.

"Why? If he wants you, you're not gay, so you just turn him away." Saeran's eyes slide back the guy again, the corner of his lips tilting up. "But if it's me..." _...I wouldn’t mind licking that lollipop._

"He's not cute," Yoosung blurts out, appearing panicked suddenly. "He's... he's ugly, actually."

"Why do you care?" Saeran asks, even though he’s pretty sure he knows the answer. Yoosung doesn’t want to share. "I'm free to talk to any guy I want. It's not like I'm tied down."

Yoosung shrugs. "I don't care. You can do whatever you want. Just thought I'd let you know he's ugly. I'll be right back." He rushes off in the direction of the candyfloss.

It’s uncanny how the guy moves swiftly as soon as Yoosung departs. The way the man had been staring at him, Saeran had been fairly certain it was himself he was interested in. And judging by the fact that he’s heading toward him, he was right.

"Hey," the guy says when he comes to a stop in front of Saeran.

"Hey," Saeran returns.

"That your boyfriend?" He jabs a thumb over his shoulder in Yoosung's direction.

"Nope. Don't got one," Saeran answers, smirking.

The stranger introduces himself as Junho, 24, a man who knows what he wants. Small talk isn’t something Saeran considers himself good at, but the double entendres Junho keeps tossing his way captures his interest adequately for a while. It’s difficult to tell without asking him to state openly what he’s looking for, but Saeran can tell it’s either a boyfriend or a fuckbuddy and he has no real interest in being either. Once he decides that, it all becomes for show - to make Yoosung jealous enough that maybe he’ll kiss Saeran, or at least let Saeran kiss him.

It’s not long before some candyfloss is shoved in his face, thankfully disguising Saeran’s muffled laughter when Yoosung says, “hi, who are you?” There’s no mistaking the bite within those four words, nor the possessiveness when he forces the candy into Saeran’s hand and beckons him to follow. “Here you go, Saeran. Let’s go.”

Yeah, that was definitely worth the annoyance Junho had become shortly after joining Saeran. “Maybe I’ll see you around,” he calls out over his shoulder as he works to keep up with Yoosung’s hurried pace. The food in front of him looks absolutely delicious, so he pulls off a pink bit and pops it into his mouth. It melts almost instantly upon touching his tongue, leaving a sweet taste behind and the desire to eat more. With widened eyes, he begins to devour it.

"Made a new friend, huh?" Yoosung asks in disinterested voice, pulling off some of his own candyfloss to eat.

"Nope." Saeran doesn't feel the need to elaborate any further, content to keep eating the candyfloss.

"No? Well... what did he want?" Yoosung presses.

Saeran lifts a shoulder in response. "Either to date or fuck. Couldn't tell which. Not interested in either so." The look on Yoosung's face indicates he has more questions, so Saeran quickly leans over and rips off some of Yoosung's candy, shoving it in his mouth and earning him a squeak of surprise. “Quit worrying. I'm not running off."

"What was that for?!" Yoosung asked once he swallowed the mouthful.

"To get you to stop being worried. You don't need to be jealous, you know.”

"I'm not worried! Or... or jealous!"

"'He's not _that_ cute~'" Saeran teases, a hint of laughter in his voice. "'He's ugly!' You're sorta transparent at times, Yoosung. It's cute."

"Hey! He... he was ugly! Why would I lie?"

The blush spreading over Yoosung's face pulls Saeran in, causing him to lean closer unconsciously. "Dunno. Why would you?" A weird, slightly warm feeling appears in the pit of his stomach. This is just innocent teasing, right? There isn't some sort of hidden motive in his own actions as far as he's aware. Is it even possible to not know something like that? Probably not, right? Yeah. Probably not.

The thought combined with the look Yoosung's giving him - a familiar one of confusion mixed with want as he denies himself - engulfs him completely, his field of vision tunneling to only see Yoosung's face. The rest of the world is gray, no longer important.

Until he runs into someone hard enough to cause him to stagger backwards. Ripping his gaze from Yoosung, Saeran opens his mouth to make a smart-ass remark until who he ran into registers. That long blonde hair, those deceptively innocent green eyes… He barely notices his candyfloss fall to the ground as his body begins to tremble uncontrollably. _This isn't her. This can't be her. She was sent off to Alaska…_

"Sorry about that, are you okay?" she asks in a sickly sweet voice and Saeran flashes back to one of the first times he met Rika. His mother had been furious that someone was trying to intervene with the personal hell she'd whipped up for him after Saeyoung had left. Rika had held her ground, a calm, serene presence throughout until his mother had stormed away, defeated. Then she'd turned to him, the sunlight framing her hair and god, she'd looked like an angel when she asked those words.

If only he'd known then he was merely exchanging one version of hell for another.

The world around him disintegrates into weird colored dust, floating around him in an almost psychedelic fashion until he's brought face-to-face with the memory of the next time he met Rika for the ‘first’ time; in a cell, dim and dirty, scared for his life. Wishing for the first time he's back at home because being tied and starved is preferable to not knowing what dark fate awaits him. He knows what that's like; he could deal with it again. Is he going to be starved here, too? Left to die until his bones join the dust he's lying on?

The colors shift again to show her telling him about the initiation, to the bottle of swirling liquid on the table before him as he sits, her hands heavy and warm on his shoulders to try to still the shaking.

“Are you okay?” she whispers in his ear, her voice sounding a little… off. Lower than he remembers.

But he can't answer. His tongue feels like a slab of concrete in a mouth as dry as a desert. So if he takes this, he'll finally be loved, finally be good enough for someone? He'll experience happiness in paradise for the first time in his life?

He drinks it.

A hand around his wrist, tugging, pulling, _dragging_ him as he stumbles along behind to be presented to the Savior for failing his first attempt at hacking. Her eyes are cold this time, frightening. Not the warm, loving person he knows. “You failed me, _Saeran_ ,” she says, emphasizing his name, the name he gets called when he's nothing more than a disappointment.

He's crying, begging for forgiveness, desperate to not have his medicine taken away. Please, he'll do anything she wants, just let him try again.

Then hands land on his shoulders again and he looks around, confused. This is not how this goes.

"Saeran, you're okay," says a voice, and it sounds like it's leagues away yet right next to him. "You're safe. Everything's okay." Every word seems closer, seeping into his body to warm it from the freezing temperature it had been. The voice speaks again and the hands feel more palpable, almost like they're _real,_ and he finally recognizes who it belongs to.

"Yoo...Yoosung?" he asks weakly. "Wh...what? Why....?"

"Yes! Yes, Saeran, it's me. It's okay, you're okay. You're safe." The voice is almost a shout now, and Saeran winces at the volume. It makes no sense. Why is Yoosung here, at Mint Eye?

"Why are you... here?"

"I... I'm here to help you. We're at the carnival. We went on the bumper cars together and had candyfloss. And we were on the ferris wheel, and I kept joking about rocking the seat, but you said you'd bite me if I did. It was funny. We had fun. And we're still having fun. We're still here, we're... we've still got other rides to go on, remember?"

Saeran’s mind slowly starts up again, trying to recall what Yoosung’s talking about. It feels familiar, like an old memory or perhaps the vague deja vu of past lives but Yoosung’s saying it’s happening _right now._ It can’t be happening right now, though, because he’s prostrating himself before Rika to ask for forgiveness but then why is Yoosung here? If he listens carefully, he can hear the sound of laughter and joyful screaming, of rides operating loudly to please their riders. Which is true? What is the reality he’s meant to return to?

...who does he trust? Does he trust Rika or Yoosung?

The answer to that is clear and he turns around in his mind to face the blurry outline of Yoosung, like an early stage hologram smiling at him. He concentrates on internalizing his voice, his smell, the weight he feels from hands on his shoulders.

It feels as though wind is blowing through to clear out the storm clouds that'd taken residence inside, taking the colored dust with them. He blinks a few times, reaching up to rub his eyes, half-expecting to pull away with dust on his fingers. Slowly everything comes into focus, the worried face of a cute blond boy included. Saeran feels raw, like all of his nerves are exposed to the elements without the barrier he always uses. Relief hits him like a train and he sags, throwing his arms around Yoosung for support. Where are they, behind a ride? There’s no one around them and while it’s hardly quiet, it’s quieter than out among the crowd. Yoosung must’ve brought him here to try to help. Words slip out that he'd normally never say as he buries his face into Yoosung's neck, inhaling him gratefully. “God, I've never been happier to see that cute face of yours.”

Arms wrap tightly around him in response. "It's okay. You're okay."

Yoosung's smell is relaxing, intoxicating almost. How has Saeran never realized how amazing he smells before? "You smell so good," he mumbles, lips brushing softly against the skin of Yoosung's neck as he speaks. A shiver ripples through Yoosung and he pauses; that had been accidental, but Yoosung liked it, huh.

"I... um... thank you."

This time it's intentional when Saeran presses his lips against the sweet skin of Yoosung's neck, firm but still unsure.

It draws out another shiver and causes a note of breathiness to creep into Yoosung's voice. "Saeran, what... what are you doing?"

"I want to kiss you." His thoughts are flowing out of him like water. Maybe he should stop, should dam them up again but more come while he's considering that. "I always want to kiss you." Another kiss, this one a little higher and with more pressure. "Please let me kiss you."

A pause that feels like forever ensues before Yoosung finally answers. "Okay," he breathes.

That's all it takes for Saeran to shift his target to Yoosung's jaw, nipping at it before slotting their lips together. The kiss lacks the usual viciousness but is still hard, rough. There's no anger here, just pure untempered desire as he guides Yoosung up against the back of the ride and presses their bodies together at every point possible. Hands softly rest on his waist, a quiet gasp urging him forward.

Saeran bites at Yoosung's lips, one of his hands tangling in his hair while the other moves down to rest on his hip. "I want to thank you for everything," he whispers. "I can make you feel better than you've ever felt before." Separating their lips enough to be able to look into his eyes, he asks, "will you let me?"

Yoosung's eyes widen. "Wh-what do you mean?"

Sliding his hand out of the soft hair, Saeran draws a finger over Yoosung's blazing cheek. "Let me reward you for being a very good boy."

"W-we're in public."

"No one can see us back here." Saeran bites along Yoosung's jaw, down his neck, reveling at every quiet noise of pleasure Yoosung makes. "Isn't it more exciting like this anyway?"

"Is... is this a good idea?"

Saeran licks leisurely up Yoosung's neck to bite his earlobe, tugging at it before releasing it. "Absolutely not. But don't let that stop you." He's rewarded by a muffled moan that spears him with heat.

"What are you g-going to do?"

A single finger is placed against those tempting lips as Saeran pulls back, smirking. He locks eyes with Yoosung, making sure not to break it as he slowly sinks to his knees, dragging a hand down his chest to toy with the button on his jeans. Winking up at him, Saeran leans forward and presses his lips against the half-hard mass there.

Yoosung visibly shudders and glances around them. "S-Saeran…”

Moving slowly, aware Yoosung could change his mind at any time, Saeran first pops open the button, then pulls down the zipper. He pauses, chuckling at the moan and mumbled question of “is this really happening?” Hooking his fingers in the waistband of the jeans, Saeran tugs them down to mid-thigh; just enough to be out of the way. Yoosung isn't fully hard yet but Saeran can see him starting to strain against the fabric. Should he tease? Maybe not here. Maybe next time…

The underwear are given the same treatment, moved out of the way, leaving Saeran with a lovely view of Yoosung's dick. It's cute. How a dick of all things manages to be cute is beyond him, but it certainly fits its owner. Regardless, Saeran feels his heart speed up and his mouth start to water in anticipation. God, he's wanted to do this for far longer than he'll ever admit. He flicks his eyes back up to Yoosung’s as he tilts forward, licking from the base of his shaft all the way up to the head.

The response is all Saeran ever wanted. Another shudder rips through Yoosung and he leans back against the ride, his chest heaving already. “Oh _god.”_

The feel of skin on skin is electrifying when Saeran places his hands on Yoosung’s thighs, running them up the soft skin slowly to settle on his hips. Gripping tightly, he pushes back to ensure Yoosung’s effectively pinned in place. Perfect. This is Saeran's turf. This is what he likes to do, what he's good at, and where he’s the one in control. Yoosung’s nearly hard, but not quite, so Saeran licks a few more times, trailing his tongue up and around, making sure to catch every sensitive spot there is. Good enough. Rolling his eyes up to watch Yoosung's face, Saeran takes the very tip inside his mouth and swirls his tongue around teasingly before pulling back. The action is rewarded with a gasp and a muffled moan as Yoosung slaps his hand over his mouth.

All that does is stoke the flames higher in Saeran and he takes him in again, just a little deeper, before withdrawing once more. This moan comes a little louder and Yoosung’s hips push against his palms before trembling in defeat.

“S-Saeran, please,” he begs from above him.

How is it that every time Yoosung says his name, it’s even hotter than the last time? Saeran groans quietly, forcing himself to wait a moment, to draw it out longer. A little bite on the thigh, another nip on the hip… and then Saeran finally gives Yoosung what he wants, swallowing him down. He moves slowly, getting used to the feeling - it's been a while. God, he's missed this. Opening a little wider, he keeps going until his nose meets Yoosung's patch of hair and then he hollows his cheeks and moans.

The noises coming from above him are loud even though they're muffled. It's probably a good thing they're behind one of the rides, disguising every sound of pleasure Yoosung makes in the groan of the machinery. Even so, Saeran can hear every single one and they set his blood aflame, his own arousal becoming painfully obvious.

One thing Saeran lives for is bringing people to their knees (figuratively) when he's blowing them. The whimpers, the begging… it's like another form of heaven for him. Yoosung is no exception as Saeran remains unmoving long enough to hear some whining and begging from Yoosung. He lets him get worked up before suddenly starting to bob his head, sucking and swirling his tongue around and around. The begging is replaced with moans and Saeran hums in pleasure.

Every movement is met with a corresponding sound from Yoosung, reminding Saeran just how sensitive his _puppy_ is. He hadn't lasted long last time; will he now? Not that it matters; Saeran relishes the ache in his jaw when he has to work to get what he wants. He speeds up, humming softly as he works.

How about trying something new? Yoosung's a masochist without a doubt. That being said, there's no guarantee he'll take well to this. The next time he swallows Yoosung, he drags his teeth lightly up his shaft, soothing it with his tongue after.

Yoosung cries out and tries to buck his hips, panting hard enough Saeran can hear over the loud clanking behind them. "S-Saeran, I think I'm c-close.”

Definitely a winner. Saeran tightens his grip on Yoosung's hips to the point they might bruise and scrapes his teeth up once more, still lightly, before releasing a long and loud hum at the top. Speeding up again, Saeran does his best to push Yoosung over the edge.

"S-Sae... uhh, God! S-so close." There's a loud banging that Saeran can only assume is Yoosung throwing his head back.

Saeran looks up, trying to see Yoosung's face. Yeah, he saw when he came undone last time but he wants to see it when he cums from Saeran's mouth. Just a little more to push him over the edge… He releases one of Yoosung's hips and slips a hand under his shirt, scratching firmly across his low back.

Then Yoosung looks down at him and their eyes meet as he emits a loud cry, body shaking and shuddering. Saeran's hips roll forward on their own at the sight of Yoosung's flushed cheeks, his eyes fluttering closed and his hand pressed firmly over his mouth. Moaning, Saeran swallows as needed, continuing to move until he feels Yoosung relax beneath him.

Pulling off, he wipes his mouth and stands, moaning softly as he takes in Yoosung, wrecked as he leans back heavily against the ride. Not for the first time it hits him just how hot Yoosung looks like this. Yoosung drops his hand loosely by his side. "F-fuck," he breathes.

Saeran smirks, satisfaction filling him. Stepping forward, he pulls up Yoosung's underwear and jeans, even going as far as to button and zip them again. Now there's no evidence of what happened except for their memories. Yoosung doesn't move, doesn't open his eyes. He looks so content, so sated and relaxed for once that Saeran can't seem to help when he leans in and kisses him. The response is instantaneous, hungry lips pressing back against his own messily as Yoosung tries to work out how to kiss while panting. Saeran just rolls with it, smiling when Yoosung has to pause to suck in a deep breath before attacking him again. The kiss evolves into something new, a softer, less-desire-more-emotional something. It's nice, enjoyable, and Saeran happily partakes in it.

Until he hears Yoosung make a completely different sound, a happy sigh. It jerks Saeran back to reality, bringing all the implications such a seemingly harmless noise could mean. He jerks away, betrayal thundering in his eyes. He will not develop feelings for this boy.

Not now, not ever.


	8. Chapter 8

The reason Yoosung had suggested taking Saeran to the carnival was so he could make sure nothing inappropriate would happen. They’d be in public, after all, and there’s no way Saeran would do anything like that in public… right?

Wrong.

But it doesn’t _feel_ inappropriate or wrong. In fact, it feels weirdly right. He can taste himself of Saeran’s lips when they kiss, but he doesn’t care. He actually finds it oddly hot, so he kisses him back with as much energy as he can muster after his orgasm.

Suddenly, Saeran pulls away and Yoosung opens his eyes, blinking in confusion and reaching out as he steps away. He’s panting heavily, and he just wants to kiss him right now.

“Why did you stop?” he asks breathlessly. Saeran just shrugs in response as he slides his bag off his shoulder, fumbling through it for a few moments and pulling out two boxes. Wait, no, one of them isn’t a box. One’s a lighter. Saeran pulls a cigarette out the box, puts it in his mouth and lights it before dropping both back in the bag and letting it fall to the ground. He sucks in a long drag before answering.

“Wanted a cigarette,” he says casually. Yoosung blinks at him, brain still fuzzy. Did Seven mention anything about this? Is he supposed to be stopping him?

“I didn’t know you smoked.”

“I’m not supposed to by my brother’s official decree,” Saeran says bitterly. “It was never really a regular thing. Just a habit from the days I did this kind of thing often.” He gestures lazily at Yoosung who’s still leaning against the ride behind him.

“Oh.” Yoosung frowns a little, jealousy spiking in him. “Um… am I supposed to be stopping you?”

“You could try, I suppose,” Saeran says with a shrug. “Dunno why you’d want to.”

Yoosung finally pushes himself up away from the wall. His legs are wobbly.

“I… huh.” He’s slowly coming back to reality, and he glances down at his crotch. “We… we just… did that.”

“We did.” Saeran smirks and takes another drag. “Gonna run again?”

As soon as Saeran says that, Yoosung feels a mild panic starting to build up inside him. Every instinct is telling him to run. To deny this ever happened. But he _can’t_. He can’t leave Saeran by himself. He promised Seven.

Yoosung avoids his eyes and shakes his head, not trusting himself to speak. Saeran heaves a deep sigh.

“Why do you have to do that?” he asks, stepping closer and cupping Yoosung’s chin in his free hand. Yoosung looks up at him with wide eyes. “You’re supposed to _enjoy_ the relaxation and good feelings that come after you get off. But every time you freak out. Let yourself relax, Yoosung. It’d be good for you.”

“I… I just… I never thought…” Yoosung pauses and gulps. “This isn’t how I p-pictured any of this going.”

All his first times so far have been with Saeran, who isn’t just a guy, but is also the brother of his best friend. Again, he’s faced with the conflict of letting it all out to Seven at the cost of telling him it’s his _brother_ he’s fooling around with. No, fooled. Past tense.

Saeran narrows his eyes and studies Yoosung’s face closely.

“Life hardly follows the picture in our heads,” he says slowly. “You gotta take the good things when they come and grab hold before they slip away, because trust me, nothing lasts. Don’t overthink everything. Just enjoy it while you can.” Saeran drops his hand and takes a step back, and Yoosung can feel his breaths starting to come more quickly. Why does he keep letting Saeran do all this stuff to him? Why does he _like_ it? Why doesn’t he _stop_ him? He desperately wants to run home right now and pretend it never happened, but he can’t. God, he can’t do anything. He has to stay here with Saeran.

Yoosung clenches his fists at his sides to try and hold himself together, and he can feel his hands shaking. Enjoy yourself while you can? How is Yoosung supposed to enjoy this when it’s nothing at all like what he hoped all these first times would be? What’s he supposed to _do_?

Yoosung takes another step away from the ride as though distancing himself from it will mean it never happened.

“What do you want to do now?” he mumbles, trying to hide how much he’s freaking out. Saeran doesn’t respond straight away.

“What other rides are there?” he asks finally. Yoosung searches his brain. Carnival. What is there to do at a carnival?

“Uh… there are the teacups?” he says. He still can’t bring himself to look at Saeran.

“Okay. We can go on those, and then we can leave if you want.” Yoosung nods and bites his lip.

“Okay. Yeah. Um… you should probably finish that first,” he says, gesturing to the cigarette. “And… don’t tell Seven I l-let you smoke.” _‘Or suck me off.’_

Saeran laughs and shakes his head. “You act as if I tell him everything. I hardly talk to him.” He walks over to the back of the ride and snubs out the cigarette before picking up his bag. “The last thing I plan on doing is telling him anything about what I do around you.”

Yoosung feels his stomach twist, but he’s grateful. “Good. Okay. I won’t tell him either.”

Saeran starts walking back around to the front of the ride, and Yoosung quickly rushes after him, trying to ignore how much his legs are shaking. He shoves his hands in his pockets and looks down as he walks, attempting to calm his racing thoughts. How is he supposed to talk to Saeran after this? The whole point of this carnival trip was to prove they can still be friends even after what happened, but now there’s even more to deal with.

They get in the line for the teacups. It’s not too long. Yoosung knows he should probably try and keep up a conversation while they wait but he can’t think of anything.

“You okay?” Saeran asks quietly after a few moments. Yoosung looks up at him and nods.

“Yep! Fine!” he says maybe a little too enthusiastically. His thoughts are racing with what this all means for him. Is he into guys? Or is he just curious about what all this feels like? He isn’t sure how much longer he can ignore this… this _thing_ between him and Saeran, and now he’s being forced to confront it head on when all he wants is to run away again. He tries to think about what a good time they were having before, when they were joking together and having fun. Why can’t he go back to that? Why does his mood have to change so dramatically while none of this seems to be affecting Saeran at all?

“If you say so,” Saeran says, and then he pauses as though considering something. “You can always talk to me if you need to.”

Yoosung blinks at him in surprise. He can… talk to Saeran? That’s not exactly something he expected him to offer.

“Oh… okay, thanks,” he says, stumbling over his words but giving him a smile. He’s not really sure _how_ he’s supposed to talk to him about all this, but it’s a nice gesture. It makes Yoosung’s heart feel warm. “I’m… um… I’m okay for now, though, I th-think. Let’s just… forget it.” He looks over to the teacups. How much longer do they have to wait? He’s trying so hard to push all this out his head and just focus on the ride they’re going to go on, but the image of Saeran kneeling in front of him feels like it’s impossible to forget. He wants to say something to break the tension, but his usual chatter doesn’t seem to be working.

Finally the ride stops and everyone gets off, and Saeran suddenly grabs Yoosung’s arm and drags him forward. He hadn’t realised he was so excited about going on these. Maybe Yoosung needs to just try and lighten up and let him have a good time. It’s not like he gets out the bunker much. Saeran pulls him into one of the cups and they sit down.

“Ready?” Saeran asks as the ride’s about to start.

“Yeah!” Yoosung says, trying to sound enthusiastic. “It’s gonna be good.”

The ride starts up with a whir. Once their cup has made one rotation Saeran speaks.

“How fast do you think this can go?”

“Huh? Oh, uh, I don’t know,” Yoosung says, looking at Saeran. What’s he up to?

“Hang on.”

Saeran starts putting all his effort into spinning them round as fast as he can.

“Woah!” Yoosung yelps, clinging on as Saeran starts laughing and slides a little closer to him. Is this payback for threatening to rock the seat on the Ferris wheel? After the initial surprise, Yoosung finds himself laughing. He hadn’t known Saeran had such a playful side. It’s… cute. His laugh is cute. Saeran grins at Yoosung and keeps spinning it round as fast as he can.

“Saeran!” Yoosung says between gasps of laughter. “Slow down!”

“Why?” Saeran asks, still grinning at him. “You’re having fun, aren’t you?”

“We might fall off!” he squeals. Saeran raises an eyebrow and forcibly slows it down just enough to grab Yoosung and yank him closer. He loops his arm around his waist and leans in before doing his best to speed them up again.

“Woah!” Yoosung yelps again. He clings on even tighter, still laughing. It feels kind of nice to have Saeran’s arm around him like this. It’s more secure. “Is this payback?!”

Saeran laughs and moves in a little so he can speak right into Yoosung’s ear. “No, this is me trying to get you to _relax_ and have fun.”

“This isn’t exactly relaxing,” Yoosung points out, still giggling at the weird feeling in his stomach as they spin, “but it’s fun!”

“It’s enough to get you to do that cute little laugh of yours,” Saeran growls into his ear playfully. Yoosung feels himself blush.

“Gahh, all this just for that?”

“Isn’t that what friends do?”

“Yeah… yeah it is,” he says as he feels the ride starting to stop. Saeran just referred to them as friends, and that sends a warmth through Yoosung. He holds onto it as best as he can.

Yoosung’s giggles slowly die down as he feels the cup come to a complete stop, but Saeran still hasn’t let go of his waist. He looks at him.

“So… um, you liked that?”

“I think this is my favourite,” Saeran says, finally dropping his arm. “Kinda wanna do it again.”

“Well, I mean, we can if you want to?” he suggests. That was really fun. Saeran jumps off the ride and peers at the line. It’s smaller this time. He turns to the man running the ride.

“Hey, can we go again?” he asks, jabbing his thumb in the direction of the cup Yoosung’s still sitting in. The man looks at Saeran and then the line.

“Yeah. Sure. Can’t say no to such a cute couple.”

Saeran slides back into the cup, and Yoosung looks at him in shock.

“Did… did he just…?”

“Call us a couple? Yeah,” Saeran confirms, shrugging. “Didn’t see the point in correcting him.”

“I… okay.” Yoosung isn’t sure what to say. “He said we were cute though. Which means you _are_ cute, no matter how much you deny it.”

Saeran groans and loops his arm around Yoosung’s waist again as he gets ready to spin them again.

“I’m so not.”

“You are!” Yoosung insists. “I know, remember?” He grins and taps his temple. Saeran leans in and growls into Yoosung’s ear.

“If you don’t stop calling me cute I’m going to kiss you again.” Yoosung feels his body flush with heat.

“Y-you wouldn’t,” he stammers. Then he coughs, realising Saeran’s probably kidding. “I wouldn’t want to kiss you now. You’d taste of smoke.”

“That could be fixed,” Saeran murmurs as the ride whirs to life again. “If that’s the only thing stopping you, that is.”

Yoosung shakes his head and makes a vague negative sound. He can’t tell if Saeran’s joking or not, and he _really_ can’t be thinking about kissing him right now. Is his face red? Probably.

“Let me hear that laugh again, cutie,” Saeran says as his only warning before he starts speeding up, going faster and faster. Yoosung squeaks and holds on tightly.

“I should have rocked the damn seat earlier!”

“Don’t pretend you don’t like this.” Saeran laughs freely, and it’s a beautiful sound. He can’t help that it makes him laugh too. He wishes Saeran would laugh more. Maybe Yoosung will have to make him. “But if you want to go back up to do that, we can.”

“Maybe we can!” Yoosung squeals. He keeps giggling as they spin around as fast as before, feeling his stomach flip from the speed. At least, he thinks it’s from the speed. It also flips whenever Saeran tightens his grip on his waist, but he ignores that. He’s not going to even think about it, let alone mention it.

Once again, the ride seems to pass by too quickly but this time when it ends Saeran hops off more quickly and shoves his hands in his pockets, grinning crookedly at Yoosung. God, he has such a nice smile.

“To the Ferris wheel so you can exact your revenge?”

“Yep!” Yoosung jumps up excitedly. “You’d better be ready!” he warns with a grin. Saeran chuckles softly.

“I’m ready for whatever you throw my way,” he teases, and they start walking over to the Ferris wheel. Yoosung still can’t quite push the memory out his head, but he’s going to ignore it and try and maintain this friendship with Saeran. It’s the last time anything like that will _ever_ happen between them.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Yoosung says. “Like I said, I can be pretty scary sometimes.” Saeran shakes his head and laughs again.

“Okay, I look forward to seeing Yoosung Kim become _scary_.”

“You should be terrified!” Every time something he says makes Saeran laugh, it makes him feel warm inside. Saeran pulls his hands out his pockets and raises them like he’s cowering in fear.

“So scared. Terrified.” Yoosung nudges him playfully.

“Don’t make fun of me!”

They reach the line, which is a little shorter this time. Yoosung can finally feel his excitement pushing away the guilt.

“Don’t drop me out of it,” Saeran warns.

“Hmm… maybe…” Yoosung teases, and Saeran bumps Yoosung with his shoulder.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” he says with a smirk.

“Cute but scary,” Yoosung says, baring his teeth at Saeran and growling. Saeran looks surprised for a second before he looks away and coughs. Yoosung looks at him in confusion, but Saeran quickly turns back to him and looks at him in terror.

“Oh no, what shall I do?” he asks in a monotone. Yoosung’s about to accuse him of making fun of him again, but it’s their turn to board the ride, and they climb into the seat. Yoosung bounces his leg excitedly as they start moving. He doesn’t want to rock it yet – he’ll wait until they’re near the top for that. He notices Saeran gripping the bar tightly in anticipation, stealing glances at him as he watches and waits. Yoosung waits just a little longer before casually leaning so they rock just the tiniest bit, but not enough to be scary yet. Saeran bites his lip, and Yoosung glances at him.

“Everything okay?” he asks innocently. Saeran reaches one hand over and shoves Yoosung gently.

“Dick.”

Yoosung giggles. “Careful. If you push me I might rock it by accident,” he teases, giving it another soft rock.

“At least I didn’t prolong it.”

“Fine then,” Yoosung says with a grin as he starts rocking it more violently. Saeran looks really tense, and Yoosung stops, frowning a little.

“Are you okay?” he asks. “I can stop if you want.”

“No. Keep going,” Saeran says through gritted teeth. Yoosung rocks it again, less hard this time. He doesn’t genuinely want to scare him because that could be disastrous if it triggers his anxiety all the way up here.

“You can tell me to stop if you want,” he says softly.

“No,” Saeran says firmly. “This can be fun, I can feel it. It’s just… something’s stopping me. Anxiety? I don’t know…”

“Okay, well… if it’s your anxiety just tell me to stop,” he says, rocking it a little harder. After a few moments, Saeran scoots a little closer to Yoosung.

“Can I… touch you?” he asks in a small voice.

“Huh? Oh, okay,” Yoosung says, smiling at him. He likes that he can be comforting for Saeran even though most people’s touch sets him on edge. It makes him feel kind of special. Perhaps that’s a sign he should definitely keep fighting for this friendship. Saeran grabs hold of his hand and breathes out a sigh of relief. Yoosung feels his heart leap a little, but he ignores it.

“You ready?”

Saeran nods. “Give it your best shot.”

Yoosung grins and starts swinging his body weight to make the seat rock underneath them, and it’s not long before Saeran’s smiling too. Yoosung’s relieved. He loves the feeling in his stomach as he swings them back and forth, and he squeezes Saeran’s hand.

He slows the rocking as they get closer to the ground again, not wanting to get in trouble. He looks over at Saeran, still smiling.

“I don’t think we’re actually allowed to do that,” he admits sheepishly. Saeran quickly looks away from him. Huh, that was weird.

Yoosung rocks the seat again when they go up, clutching hold of Saeran’s hand tightly as they both laugh and giggle freely. It’s an amazing feeling.

“You’re a lot of fun,” Saeran says between laughter. “…sometimes,” he adds on in an embarrassed mumble. Yoosung grins. Why does he get so embarrassed about saying nice things?

Like with the teacups, it feels like the ride comes to an end too soon, and they let go of each other’s hands and climb off. In a weird way, Yoosung misses the touch.

“Thanks for deciding to bring me here. It was nice to get away from the bunker,” Saeran says quietly.

“Yeah, I can imagine,” Yoosung says with a nod. “We should do this more often.” Except without the ‘incident’ behind that ride.

“You’d… voluntarily bring me outside more often?” he asks in surprise.

“I… yeah, I mean, if you want to?” Yoosung’s not sure why he’s suddenly tripping over his words.

“Yeah…” Saeran replies slowly.

“Okay, but… um…” He pauses and feels himself blush. “No more of… _that_ stuff.”

“Whatever you say,” Saeran says, shrugging. Yoosung frowns. Does Saeran not believe him? Does he think he’s going to keep coming back for more? Yoosung will just have to prove him wrong. He can forget about it all, right? Yeah of course he can.

“Do you want to go now?” Saeran asks.

“Oh, I don’t mind,” Yoosung says with a smile. “Is there anything else you want to do?” Saeran pauses and then shakes his head. There’s something weird hanging in the air between them. He’s not sure what it is.

“Can we get a drink first?” Saeran asks, pointing to a drink stand and then digging through his bag. “And what do I owe you for the candyfloss?”

“Hey, it’s fine! That was on me,” Yoosung says, shooting him a smile. Saeran pulls his wallet out of his bag.

“Thanks,” he says quietly.

Saeran orders a bottle of water, and Yoosung gets a Koka Kola.

“Anything else you want to do?” Yoosung asks, glancing around the carnival. Part of him wants to prolong this for as long as possible because he knows as soon as he’s alone he won’t be able to stop thinking about… the ‘incident’.

“I need to go home,” he says in a small voice as he opens the bottle of water. “I’m getting… overstimulated.”

“Okay, let’s go,” Yoosung says and he starts walking to the exit. He tries not to keep nervously glancing at Saeran in case it makes him uncomfortable. “I had fun today.”

“Me too.” Saeran pauses, fingers tapping on the bottle. “You’re getting good at handling some of my breakdowns.”

“Huh. I guess that’s good. I just want to make sure you have a good time.”

Yeah… I’m sorry you have to deal with them, though. You shouldn’t have to.” Guilt is evident in his voice and he turns away. Yoosung frowns.

“I reckon it’s harder for you to deal with than it is for me, don’t you think?” he points out. “If I’m there to help, I want to. It’s not like you’re… I dunno. A problem.” Yoosung shrugs. He’s not sure he’s doing a very good job explaining. “It’s just a thing that happens, and it sucks, but if I can help then I will.”

“You’re too good to be hanging out with someone like me,” Saeran says, and Yoosung looks at him in surprise. That seems like something he’d been thinking about for a while.

“That’s not true. I don’t think I’m all good, and you’re not all bad either.”

“Maybe, but you’re still too good. And I’m… just never going to be good.”

“I think you could be,” Yoosung says, shrugging. He knows this can be a sensitive topic, so he tries to keep his voice as casual as he can. “Do you _want_ to be good?” Saeran pauses, not answering straight away.

“I don’t want to be _bad_ ,” he answers slowly and carefully. “I’d settle for neutral.”

“Hmm.” Yoosung already thinks Saeran’s good, even if he doesn’t realise it. “I think as long as you try and be better, that’s always good.”

“Maybe.” Saeran sighs and looks away. “So… uh, how’s school? You’re almost done for the year, right?”

Yoosung grimaces. “Ugh, yeah. But I have exams soon.”

“Shouldn’t you be studying instead of bringing me out?” Saeran asks in confusion, glancing at him.

“Probably,” he admits. “I can take a break sometimes. I’ll… it’ll be fine.” He pauses. “I’m not very good at studying. I get too distracted.”

“By that game you play?” Saeran asks, quirking an eyebrow.

“By anything, really. I’ll do _anything_ instead of studying. It doesn’t even have to be something fun. Like… cleaning my room.”

“It’s that bad, huh?” Saeran chuckles and shakes his head.

“Yeah,” Yoosung says grumpily. “I’d rather do _anything_ else, honestly.”

“Is that so?” Saeran steps a little closer to him as they walk, smirking. “Anything?”

“I… yeah?” Yoosung says a little more uncertainly. He feels his body start getting warm again.

“Anything is a large spectrum, you know. Covers a lot of stuff, anything.” Saeran nudges Yoosung’s shoulder and winks. Yoosung feels his face heat up.

“Okay… uh, maybe not _anything_. I was being dramatic,” he says, tripping over his words.

“Dramatic, huh?” Saeran laughs and shoves his hand in his pocket. “It can’t seriously be that bad.”

Yoosung clears his throat and tries to get his thoughts in order. “It’s pretty bad. Just thinking about it… ugh.”

“Maybe you should, I dunno, reward yourself when you do it? Like… eat sweets after you study for an hour?”

“I guess so. But I have, like, no self-discipline.”

“Well then maybe you need someone to help you study,” Saeran suggests. “Like a friend who you’ll listen to?”

Yoosung considers that for a moment. “Maybe. I don’t really have anyone from school I want to study with, though. I’m probably way more behind than all of them.” Yoosung hesitates. There is another option. “What… what about you? Would you help?” he asks nervously. Saeran’s eyebrows shoot up.

“Me?”

He shoves his hands in his pockets. “I mean… you’re my friend, right?” Yoosung shakes his head. “You don’t have to. It’ll be boring.”

“No, I… I can if you want me to. I mean, I just wasn’t expecting you to choose me.” Saeran laughs softly, making Yoosung’s stomach flip. “It’s not like the rewards _I’d_ suggest would be up your alley, so you’ll have to pick.”

“Huh? What do you mean?” Yoosung asks, genuinely confused. Saeran looks at him in disbelief as if to say ‘think about it, idiot.’ “I don’t…” Yoosung trails off as the sudden realisation hits him. “ _Oh!_ ” he squeaks. “Um… no, it’s okay. Sweets are fine.”

Saeran chuckles and leans closer.

“You sure?” he asks in a sing-song voice. Yoosung looks at him. He must be kidding, right? They said no more of this.

“What if I said I wanted that?” he shoots at him. He has no idea why he said that. Saeran shrugs.

“If you were serious, I’d give it to you.”

“Saeran.” Yoosung runs his fingers through his hair. “We… we can’t keep…” He trails off. God, what is he even thinking?

“Why not?” Saeran asks, suddenly sounding incredibly bitter. “You like it, I like it, what’s wrong with a little fun now and then?”

“It’s just… I don’t know. It’s…” Yoosung doesn’t really know what to say. “Friends don’t usually _do_ stuff like that.”

“Some do,” Saeran argues, but it’s obvious his heart isn’t really in it. It seems to be entirely up to Yoosung. “But it’s your call.”

“Friends who… do that…” Yoosung breathes out a heavy breath. Is he _really_ considering this? Is Saeran _really_ offering this? Like he said before, it could be a way to practice. And now that Saeran’s already... well, he’s already done a lot of things that were Yoosung’s first times, so what different does it make if he does them again? It doesn’t mean Yoosung’s actually into men, right? It’s just practice. “I don’t know,” he says in frustration. “We don’t have feelings for each other, and it’s… it’s supposed to be…” Yoosung groans. Why is he so conflicted? Why can’t he just say no and that’s the end of it?

“Feelings? What good are _feelings_?” Saeran spits out aggressively. “Feelings only get in the way. I’m talking about pleasure.”

Yoosung bites his lip as he thinks for a moment.

“So it would just be between us, right? And… and it wouldn’t mean anything? And we can just forget about it every time?”

“Yeah. That’s the idea. Although I reserve the right to tease you whenever I want.” Saeran smirks and leans closer. “I like calling you puppy sometimes,” he growls in his ear.

Yoosung shivers and feels his face flush. Would it really be so bad? They can just pretend it never happened, and no one needs to know.

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel,” he says in frustration.

“I can’t tell you how to feel.” Saeran steps away and looks up at the sky with a blank expression on his face. “But is it really a bad thing to let yourself just have some fun sometimes, no strings attached?”

Saeran makes it sound so… easy. Meaningless.

“I’ll do it,” Yoosung blurts out suddenly, surprising even himself. Saeran glances over at Yoosung, a wicked smile curling his lips.

“Good.”

“But you can’t tease me _all_ the time!” Yoosung says, stomach flipping at the agreement he’s just made. “And you still can’t tell anyone.”

“Alright,” Saeran agrees easily. Yoosung sucks in a deep breath.

“It’s not weird, right?”

“No, it’s not weird, Yoosung.” Saeran rolls his eyes in amusement and takes another sip of water. Yoosung looks down at his unopened drink and opens it to take a sip while he thinks. The whole idea of this is making his head spin.

“I’ve never done this before,” Yoosung says, as though it weren’t already painfully obvious. He’s just blurting out whatever comes into his head.

“I don’t mind,” Saeran says with a shrug. Yoosung bites his lip.

“But what about you?” he asks quietly. “You… I’ve never… I haven’t d-done anything for you yet.” Surely that’s the point of an arrangement like this? Give _and_ take? Saeran stiffens for a split second before relaxing again.

“That’s okay. I don’t usually let people do anything for me.”

“You don’t want anything?” Yoosung asks in surprise. That doesn’t seem fair. He knows Saeran has an issue with touch, but Yoosung seems to have unknowingly found some kind of loophole that means his touch doesn’t bother him so much.

“No. I don’t want people to touch me. Why do you think I tell you not to?”

“I just… I don’t know. I guess you don’t have to.” Why does he feel disappointed? It’s not like he particularly _wants_ to do anything for Saeran, right? “It just doesn’t seem fair.” Saeran snickers.

“Maybe if you’re an extra good puppy, one day I’ll let you,” he says in a low voice. Yoosung feels heat rush through him, straight to his face.

“I… that’s… um…” he stammers, not sure what to say, and Saeran laughs.

The bunker comes into sight and Yoosung runs his fingers through his hair to try and regain his composure. Today had most definitely not gone as Yoosung expected. So much for a public place being a safe choice.

“When can I see you again?” he blurts out.

“Whenever you want,” Saeran says, shrugging. “I’m pretty much always free. Let me know if you want me to help you study or whatever.”

“Okay, yeah. Uh… I’ll text you?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Saeran turns down the path that leads to the door “Thanks again. This was fun.”

“It was. Okay, um… see you soon?” he says hopefully.

“You bet,” Saeran says, waving up at the camera to get Seven’s attention before waving at Yoosung. “See you.”

“See you!” Yoosung says again, waving back and smiling widely. He turns around and heads to the bus stop nearby.

Just don’t think it through. Roll with it. It’s not bad. It’s just… they’re just friends who happen to do other things too. That’s what Yoosung needs to keep telling himself. Just friends with a few extra benefits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they're just bros i swear


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The study date~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoooo boy, this is another long one
> 
> By StarlingHawke

**Saeran**

It’s late when Saeran returns from his ‘mysterious’ outing, inputting the code he’d stolen into the door and slipping inside. Hopefully Saeyoung’s still sleeping, unaware that his brother just left without permission or an escort. As though he really needs one. He came back, right?

The bunker is dark save for the stupid glow-in-the-dark stars Saeyoung has plastered everywhere casting an odd, almost ethereal glow on the floor as Saeran sneaks across the living room. Keeping an ear out for any creaking or signs of footsteps, he relaxes at the soft sound of snoring as he approaches his room. Fantastic, everything went off without a hitch. There’s no telling how pissed off Saeyoung will be tomorrow when he sees, though.

Because there’s no way Saeran pierced his lip on his own. Twice.

Flopping on his bed, he debates for a moment before deciding to post it on his tripter. Not many people follow him anyway, and the only ones who respond to him are Yoosung, his brother and, occasionally, Zen. One is sleeping but he’s not sure about the other two. Not that he cares.

 

_Decided to get snakebites tonight. They look fucking wicked._

 

He hasn’t even put the phone down when he gets a response from Yoosung.

 

_Seriously!? Can I see?_

 

Chuckling, Saeran sits up and fiddles with the phone’s camera, attempting to figure out the magical angles for selfies people always talk about. He fails. So he settles for a picture of him basically scowling and snaps it, before opening up the Tripter DM’s and sending it to Yoosung.

 

> Saeran: Here you go.
> 
> Yoosung★: Omg that looks so cool!!!!!
> 
> Saeran: Yeah? You like it?
> 
> Yoosung★: Yeah! They really suit you!
> 
> Saeran: I’m thinking of getting a tongue piercing too.
> 
> Yoosung★: Really!?
> 
> Saeran: I think I’d like it. And I hear it’s good for certain things.
> 
> Yoosung★: Certain things?? Like what?

Saeran snickers.

 

> Saeran: Well, I’ve heard it feels really good if the person giving you head has one.
> 
> Yoosung★: hfhfnngm
> 
> Yoosung★: what!?!
> 
> Saeran: What? Just means it’ll feel better for you too
> 
> Yoosung★: SAERAN
> 
> Saeran: What?
> 
> Yoosung★: i can’t believe youre saying this!!!!!!
> 
> Saeran: You can’t? Really?
> 
> Yoosung★: well i can but you SHOULDN’T!!!!!
> 
> Saeran: Why not? We agreed to do that stuff now, right?
> 
> Saeran: So it’s only proper of me to warn you if I do something that’ll affect it, yeah?
> 
> Yoosung★: well yes ok but it makes me feel WEIRD
> 
> Yoosung★:i didn’t think we’d talk about it!!!!
> 
> Saeran: Well. If I get my tongue pierced then we can’t kiss until it heals
> 
> Saeran: Is that less weird for you?
> 
> Yoosung★: Really? For how long?
> 
> Saeran: Until the swelling goes down, at least. About a week?
> 
> Yoosung★: Ohh that’s not that long
> 
> Yoosung★: Not that it matters!!!!!!!!

Saeran muffles a loud laugh in his palm. It’s so obvious that Yoosung really likes the ‘benefits’ part of their friendship, and he always does such a shit job at trying to hide it. 

 

> Saeran: Aw, I’m touched
> 
> Saeran: You were gonna miss kissing me
> 
> Yoosung★: No!!!!!!!!
> 
> Yoosung★: thats not why i asked!!!!!!!!!
> 
> Saeran: Then why’d you ask? Puppy was just curious?
> 
> Yoosung★: i just w
> 
> Yoosung★: *wondered when it would heal!!
> 
> Saeran: Mmhmm.
> 
> Saeran: sorry but we’ll be limited to just my hands until it heals.

Should he take this further and really fluster Yoosung?

Of course he should.

 

> Saeran: Luckily, my hands can do a lot.
> 
> Saeran: Draw
> 
> Saeran: Write
> 
> Yoosung★: omg
> 
> Yoosung★: Saeran stop!
> 
> Saeran: Type
> 
> Saeran: Stop what?
> 
> Yoosung★: yuo know what!!!!!!!
> 
> Saeran: typo, Pupsung
> 
> Yoosung★: youre so frustrating omg
> 
> Yoosung★: Ok listen I’m fine it doesn’t even matter!!
> 
> Yoosung★: Get any piercing u want I think they look cool anyway
> 
> Saeran: Tongue it is.

A few minutes go by without any response and Saeran’s annoyed to find he’s actually disappointed. Whether he’s willing to admit it or not, he really does enjoy talking to Yoosung. Of course, it’s just because it’s fun to tease him. That’s it. Nothing more.

Then again, it _is_ nearing four in the morning and as far as he’s aware, Yoosung has class so maybe he just finally fell asleep. Or went back to playing LOLOL, which would be the only reason he’s up so late anyway.

Not that Saeran cares. He most definitely does _not_ care what Yoosung’s doing.

Groaning, he rolls off the bed and changes into a pair of sleep pants and a white shirt, resigning himself to trying to get some sleep of his own. He’s not too optimistic but it never hurts to hope. The phone is dropped on his nightstand and soon he’s crawling under the covers, light left on because it feels like a night that the dark would only exasperate his issues.

What a fucking mess his life is.

-oOo-

When Saeran wakes, it’s past noon. Groggy but amazed he managed to sleep as long as he did with only minimal nightmares, he automatically reaches for his phone to see if anyone (Yoosung) texted him. Curse his mind for automatically inserting Yoosung’s name into any sentence it can, because that’s definitely _not_ why he’s checking his phone right now.

No new texts, but there is a new message on Tripter, left somewhere around 8am when Yoosung was probably dragging his tired ass to school.

 

> Yoosung★: Hey wait
> 
> Yoosung★: Since when did you call me that!?

Saeran squints at the phone in confusion, not understanding what Yoosung’s referring to.

 

> Saeran: call you what?

Three little dots appear to let him know Yoosung’s typing an answer. That was fast.

 

> Yoosung★:What you jsut called me!!
> 
> Yoosung★: Ladt ngith
> 
> Yoosung★: when you said there was a typo

He has to scroll up to see what Yoosung’s referring to. _Oh._ He snickers, shaking his head.

 

> Saeran: Pupsung
> 
> Saeran: I don’t remember when i changed it in my phone
> 
> Saeran: its been a while
> 
> Yoosung★: I’m saved at that in yrou phone?!?!?!?!?!?!?!!

Saeran screenshots Yoosung’s contact information and sends it in the message, chuckling. 

 

> Saeran: Yeah
> 
> Yoosung★:Why?!!?!?
> 
> Yoosung★: What if someone sees?!?!
> 
> Saeran: uh because i can and no one will see? My phones dead most of the time anyway
> 
> Yoosung★: Ugh!
> 
> Yoosung★: I want to save your name as something annoying now too
> 
> Yoosung★: I don’t know what
> 
> Saeran: ~*uNkNoWn@$/()
> 
> Yoosung★: Nahh not annoying enough
> 
> Yoosung★: What about ‘Cutie Saeran’ lololol
> 
> Saeran: …
> 
> Saeran: I’m not cute.
> 
> Yoosung★: You are lolol
> 
> Saeran: No, you’re the cute one
> 
> Yoosung★: Doesn’t mean u can’t be cute too
> 
> Yoosung★: I think you’re cute lololol you just try to be edgy

Saeran covers his mouth a moment in embarrassment as he reads and rereads that statement. Yoosung thinks he’s cute? Why does that make his stomach feel all… weird and floppy and shit? And why the fuck is he blushing?

 

> Saeran: I’m not trying, I _am_ edgy
> 
> Yoosung★: Ok ok whatever you say, Cutie Saeran
> 
> Saeran: ...am I gonna need to punish the puppy?
> 
> Yoosung★: what????!!

And the ball is back in his court. Win.

 

> Yoosung★: I didn’t do anything!
> 
> Saeran: You keep calling me cute when I’m not
> 
> Yoosung★: You are though
> 
> Yoosung★: It’s not a bad thing to be cute!
> 
> Saeran: unless you don’t want to be
> 
> Yoosung★:You don’t really have much of a choice lololol
> 
> Yoosung★: But you’re not just cute! You’re other stuff too!

Other stuff? Saeran raises an eyebrow, intrigued. Where is Yoosung going with this?

 

> Saeran: Like what?

There’s a long pause before those three dots appear again.

 

> Yoosung★: oh
> 
> Yoosung★: uh, never mind
> 
> Saeran: No, finish
> 
> Yoosung★: no no no it doesnt matter!!!!
> 
> Saeran: Yoosung.
> 
> Yoosung★: …
> 
> Yoosung★: You can’t tease me about it, ok?
> 
> Saeran: Okay.
> 
> Yoosung★: ok um well
> 
> Yoosung★: I was going to say that you’re… hot

Saeran freezes. Cute was one thing, but _hot?_ His heart is beating fast enough that it might as well power him on a trip to the clouds and he can feel his face getting somehow even warmer. He has no idea how to respond to this, this… compliment? 

 

> Yoosung★: Not in a weird way!!!
> 
> Yoosung★: I’m not into guys i can just see that you are
> 
> Saeran: uh thanks

Neither speak for a few minutes. Saeran scrolls through tripter lazily, liking the compliment Zen left him about his new piercings. Finally, Yoosung responds.

 

> Yoosung★: So...um… are you still up for helping me study?
> 
> Saeran: Yeah, sure
> 
> Yoosung★: Ok, what time can I come over?
> 
> Saeran: whenever you want, I’m just staring at the ceiling
> 
> Yoosung★: Sounds fun lololol
> 
> Yoosung★: I’ll catch the bus from campus and come over now!
> 
> Saeran: Okay, I’ll tell idiot to open the door

He needs to shower, now. Yoosung had denied that he’d want the rewards to be physical, but Saeran can read him better than that. He’s not sure how long it takes to get from campus to the bunker, but he should hurry, just in case.

He ignores the flipping of his stomach that accompanies the knowledge that soon Yoosung would be there.

-oOo- 

_Ding._

**To: Saeran**

**(14:24)** Just got off the bus, is the door open?

 

**To: Pupsung**

**(14:25)** yeah

 

Saeran sets the phone down on the edge of the sink and takes a final glance in the mirror at his hair, trying to flatten it down and failing. It’s wilder than normal today, even after a shower and nothing will convince it to lay flat. He can’t help but compare it to the rollercoaster he feels internally, emotions he doesn’t understand flaring up and refusing to be shoved back down into the dark depths where he prefers they stay.

The sound of the door opening makes him jump and he quickly grabs the phone, shoving it in his pocket and darting out of the bathroom. There’s Yoosung, looking around curiously as he shuts the door behind him. “Hey!” he calls out when his eyes land on Saeran, a smile as bright as the morning sun gracing his features.

“Hey.” Saeran catches himself right as his lips start to quirk up into a return smile and he whips himself around to face away, brows furrowed as he tries to force it back. “My room, then?” It’s phrased as a question but it’s more of a statement, one he doesn’t wait for an answer to before shoving open his door and hiding inside. Luckily, he has his facial muscles back under full control when Yoosung comes trotting inside.

“I like the snakebites! They’re really cool.”

Almost automatically a finger comes up to touch one lightly, the presence both constantly on Saeran’s mind while also managing to be forgotten. But he knows they look good on him, and the cocky smirk he directs at Yoosung shows that. “Thanks.” Slipping behind Yoosung, he shuts the door and then folds his arms, tilting his head to the side. “So I don’t have candy, but I know where my brother’s stash of honey buddha chips are if those would work.”

Yoosung’s eyes widen and he inhales softly in excitement, nodding. “Ooh, yeah! I love those!”

“I thought so.” Shit, he hadn’t really thought about where they’d study in here. How many books does one study with? Saeran hasn’t the faintest idea. His eyes flick from the bed to the desk. “Uh. Where would you rather set up? I don’t know anything about studying…”

Humming thoughtfully, Yoosung surveys the room before pointing at the bed. “The bed would probably be better. Then we can spread stuff out.”

“Okay.” Dropping his arms, his fingers begin to toy with the hem of his shirt as those weird flipping feelings are replaced by nervousness. What the fuck is that about? What’s wrong with him today? “Just tell me what you need me to do.”

Yoosung nods and dumps his bag on the bed, books tumbling out onto the mattress in a haphazard pile. They’re so big. How is one person expected to know everything in them? It’s _insane._ “You could just quiz me on the stuff in one of these books. Probably this one first.” He picks one up and hands it Saeran. “Geography isn’t my strongest point.”

“Uhh…” Saeran takes the book gingerly, looking at it in mild disgust before opening it up. “About… anything?”

He glances back up at Yoosung’s snort. “You don’t look too pleased about this.”

“I just… don’t know any of this stuff. Anyway. I can ask you anything from this book?” Saeran asks, flipping through some of the pages. God, it looks so _dull._

“Yeah, unless you just want to stare at the ceiling again. That’s probably more interesting,” Yoosung jokes with a grin.

Rolling his eyes, Saeran sits on the edge of the bed and slips his phone out. “An hour of studying equals a bag of honey buddha chips,” he says firmly, setting the timer for 60 minutes. Yoosung kindly informs him that there are practice quizzes spread throughout the book so Saeran finds them, asking question after question.

Despite his statement about geography knowledge, Yoosung knows most of the answers. They fall into a steady rhythm and the hour passes far quicker than Saeran expects. During that time, he’s amused to find Yoosung’s eyes dropping to either his lips or his snakebites (maybe both) more than once. He can't help but wonder what he’s thinking about.

When the timer goes off Saeran quickly silences it, shutting the book and dropping it on the bed. He stands, stretches and then makes his way out of the room toward the kitchen without a word to Yoosung.

Saeyoung thinks he’s clever by hiding the chips at the very back of the topmost cupboard, behind the cereal. Maybe it is a good hiding spot - not like Saeran would have any idea - but he’d stumbled upon it pretty early on when raiding the kitchen for something to eat. He doesn’t care for them so Saeyoung’s never been the wiser, and surely he won’t miss a bag or two given to Yoosung.

It takes a bit of a stretch to shove the boxes aside and land his hand on a bag, but Saeran manages it and hurries back to his room, slowing down as soon as he passes the door. Tossing the bag to Yoosung nonchalantly, he smirks and says, “puppy was good.”

“Again with the puppy thing…” Yoosung complains as he catches the bag, but Saeran can tell Yoosung’s heart just isn’t in the argument. That knowledge just makes his smirk grow even wider; maybe he _likes_ being called puppy.

“You agreed I could tease you~ I’m just cashing in on that.” Saeran settles back on the bed, perhaps just a little closer to him than last time but who’s paying attention. Not him, that’s for sure.

Nope.

Not at all.

Yoosung rips open the bag and pops a chip in his mouth. “Hmph. You know, I changed your name on my phone.”

The triumphant look that follows that statement causes Saeran to snicker softly. “Oh, did you? Do I want to know to what?”

“Probably not, but I bet you can guess~”

The memory of their earlier conversation flashes through his mind and Saeran groans, rolling his eyes. Yeah, he can certainly hazard a guess to that. “...you did the cutie thing, didn’t you.”

The giggle he’s answered with is as cute as ever. “Yep!”

The phone is sitting atop a book beside Yoosung. Saeran eyes it, wondering if he can swipe it later when Yoosung isn't looking and switch it back… or to something else entirely, just to prank him. “Whatever. More geography or something else now?” He desperately hopes it’s a different subject.

“Oh…. uh, hm. Maybe maths now?”

Thank God. Saeran drops the geography book as far away on the bed as he can manage before glancing through the other options in front of him. Grabbing the maths book, he opens it and blinks. “Uh. How do I quiz you on this?” It’s all problems without answers, garbled and weird.

Yoosung frowns a moment before sitting up straight. “Wait! I have flashcards for this!” Saeran watches as he digs around in the pile between them, pulling up a bunch of cards held together by a rubber band and handing them to him.

...flashcards. “Uh… one side has the question and the other the answer?” Never before has Saeran’s lack of traditional schooling been so obvious. At least, not that he can recall. The casual way Yoosung had mentioned them makes it feel like they’re commonly used for studying. God, he feels so stupid.

“Yeah, so you can read out the question and see if I get the answer right!” Just like the last time Saeran encountered something he should’ve known, there’s no judgment in Yoosung’s voice. In fact, all he does is shove another chip in his mouth and smile.

“Alright.” Once more the timer is set and Yoosung settles into the bed, munching on chips while Saeran dubiously looks over the cards. After a moment he starts asking the questions, fingers twitching on his leg with a desire to poke, to feel the sting that occurs whenever he toys with his piercings. No. No. Not right now. There’s no need to do that right now. He busies his free hand with pulling up little tufts of fabric that’s balled up on top of his comforter, picking and dropping, picking and dropping, picking and dropping.

Eventually his hand sneaks up and starts playing with them anyway, and he silently curses his own weakness. Twist, poke, tongue the inside. They’re only studs right now, but he has plans to switch to rings as soon as he can. He vaguely wonders if those will be as fun to play with, and mourns the day he loses the pain accompanied by the slow healing process. Pain grounds him. It always has, and while he’s settled for the tingling that cones from sharp tugs of his hair, this is so much better. How can he resist?

“Do they hurt?”

Yoosung’s question pulls Saeran out of his musings and for a moment he just gapes at Yoosung, face blank before his brain kicks into gear. “Hah, no. Not really. It’s just weird having them so I keep wanting to feel them. I dunno. Sounds stupid.”

“Huh.” Yoosung blatantly stares, his fingers touching the places on his own lips where they would be. “Did it hurt when you got them done?”

“A little. Kinda like a, uh… really hard pinch and then they stung for a while. But other than my lip being a bit swollen, I’m fine now.” Well. Fine when he’s not purposefully inflicting pain on himself, that is.

“Maybe I should get a piercing!” Yoosung’s suddenly lit up with excitement again, eyes shining. “Then I can be edgy, too!”

Saeran has to bite back the response that piercings don’t automatically make a person edgy, instead letting a soft chuckle roll out. “Yeah? What piercing would you get?”

There’s a pause as Yoosung considers the question, a small smile playing across his features. “I dunno. Maybe… maybe my nose? Do you think that would suit me?”

Yoosung with a piercing… Saeran lets his eyes roam over his face appraisingly, imagining the different types of nose piercings and nodding in satisfaction. “You know, I think you might be able to pull that off.” Might is an understatement. Cocking his head to the side, Saeran purses his lips as he thinks. “I was actually thinking about maybe doing that one day, too. We could do it together?”

“Oh my god, yeah! That would be so cool!” Saeran’s hardpressed to keep a smile at bay, lips tight as he watches Yoosung practically glow with enthusiasm. “Maybe I could get my ears done, too. What else do you want pierced?”

Saeran directs a quirked brow and smirk at him. “That’s quite a list. I was thinking about my tongue, nose, ears, nipples and maybe eyebrow.”

“Wow, that’s… that’s a lot.” A strange expression crosses Yoosung’s face fleetingly, gone before Saeran even has a chance to attempt to decipher it. “But… won’t it hurt? That one, I mean,” he says, gesturing vaguely toward Saeran’s chest.

“Probably, but I’m not afraid of pain.” _I deserve it._ With a lazy shrug, Saeran leans forward to poke Yoosung’s nose. “You just worry about how much _yours_ will hurt.”

Yoosung’s eyes widen, crossing in attempt to look at Saeran’s finger on his nose. “I don’t mind pain!”

Freezing, Saeran hovers a moment before pulling back his hand, surprise washed away by wicked humor. “Right. How could I forget? You actually _like_ pain. Maybe getting a piercing will turn you on, yeah?” Saeran’s hands find purchase on the bed as he moves closer, stretching to whisper in Yoosung’s ear. “Probably want me to suck you off right after we get our noses done, I bet.” His lips brush tantalizingly soft against his ear and he snickers quietly when he sees the muscles of Yoosung’s jaw working to open and close his mouth. So he’s rendered him speechless. Looks like there’s a blush creeping high on his cheeks, too. “Not denying it? Interesting.” Deciding to take it a step further, Saeran drags his tongue up the shell of Yoosung’s ear and then sits back, picking up the flashcards and making a show of organizing them on his lap. “Woops. We got off subject.”

“I don’t mind,” Yoosung blurts out, face flushed and eyes focused on Saeran’s lips. “We can… we can stay off subject if… if you want.”

He’s like putty in Saeran’s hands and it gives him such a rush of adrenaline. But no, not yet. He made a promise he intends to keep.

Lifting a finger, Saeran tuts at Yoosung. “No, you came here to study and I said I’d reward you at the end of every successful hour. Of this hour, you still have…” Saeran checks his phone quickly. “...roughly 20 minutes left.” He holds up a flashcard, a devilish smile on his face. “Best work hard, yeah?”

“Okay. I will. I’ll work really hard.”

“Good puppy,” Saeran murmurs, noting that Yoosung’s started bouncing his knee. Must be another habit, one when he’s impatient, perhaps? Whatever. Saeran starts up with the questions again, impressed that Yoosung answers most of them correctly even with the distraction he’s had thrown at him. He’s a lot smarter than he gives himself credit for and a hard worker when there’s something he wants at the end.

Saeran’s curious what the reward will be this time.

When the alarm goes off, Saeran reaches over to grab the spare bag of chips he’d brought back and dangles it in front of Yoosung’s face. “What would you like this time? More chips?” He’s well aware of the fact that Yoosung hasn’t even finished the last bag, too distracted by whatever he thinks is coming to remember to eat. But that doesn’t mean he can’t drag this out a little.

Purple eyes widen before looking down, Yoosung’s fingers toying with the bedspread. “Oh… um… I don’t know…”

Chuckling, Saeran reaches out and ruffles Yoosung’s hair. “Chips it is,” he says, dropping them in his lap.

“Wait!” A hand latching around his wrist causes Saeran to pause, looking at Yoosung expectantly. “That’s… that’s not…”

Saeran brings up his free hand to cup Yoosung’s chin, lifting it so he can look at him properly. “Then tell me what you want for being such a good boy.”

The strangled breath followed by Yoosung’s eyes flicking down to Saeran’s lips tells all. “Um… something else that’s… that’s not chips.”

With a teasing smirk, Saeran slowly drags his tongue across his lips and watches the color bloom on pale cheeks before putting Yoosung out of his misery. The new piercings add a layer of complication to this, something Saeran realizes as he slots his lips over Yoosung’s. He can’t be as aggressive and punishing as he normally is; it’ll aggravate them, make the surrounding area swell more. That doesn’t stop him from testing his limits, pressing them together as firmly as he can before the sharp sting of pain causes him to back off just a little.

God, it’s hard to keep from doing what he normally does, what he likes. The biting and the anger and the fire burning hot between them is his go-to but as he lets himself relax and lazily explore this slower, softer form of kissing, he finds it’s not so bad. Shoving a few books out of the way between them, Saeran shifts himself closer to Yoosung, sliding their lips together gently.

Somehow the kiss draws him in more than before, enrapturing his senses and leaving him a slave to the soft smacking and slow drag of soft, plump skin against his own. When his lungs scream for air and he is forced to pull back, he blinks at Yoosung in surprise before scooting even closer and diving right back in, willing to drown himself in this feeling. It’s gentle, bordering on sweet even, and highly addicting. An arm loops around Yoosung’s waist and pulls him closer, the shivers traveling through the blond’s body not lost on Saeran.

Tentative arms slip around his shoulders and Saeran sighs, leaning into the kiss more, feeling them slowly, carefully tighten. He wants to be closer, but there’s only a tiny bit of space left between them before Yoosung will end up on his lap and that’s… well, not a bad thought but definitely not something they should do when Yoosung’s supposed to be studying. Right? Maybe?

An alarm blasts in the back of his mind, barely above a whisper. Usually that’s enough to grab his attention and yeah, perhaps he should pay attention to it now but the sensations, the emotions rolling through him at the moment render him helpless in his own body. All he wants is to keep kissing Yoosung, keep tasting him, keep feeling his breath when it washes softly over his skin.

Tilting his head, Saeran moves the hand cupping Yoosung’s chin back around his neck, deepening the kiss as much as he can. Pain starts to tingle in his lip, warning him not to press any further so he flicks out a tongue, licking leisurely along those lips just to get another taste. The bed shifts under him and he feels knees touching his own, the arms around him tightening further. They’re so close now. It’s still not close enough.

Again he feels the burn in his chest and is forced to break for breath, gulping down air as he takes in the state of the man before him. Yoosung’s cheeks are flushed a beautiful red, his pupils dilated, lips shimmering and just a bit swollen from the kisses as he breathes heavily. He’s beautiful. Stunning. The most gorgeous creature on the planet.

A lock of blond hair falls forward to obscure one of those eyes and Saeran reaches out to correct that, softly tucking it behind an ear. God, Yoosung is amazing, so perfect, he could never ask for anyone better and there’s no way he’d ever want-

Hold on.

Halt that thought.

Eyes wide with betrayal, Saeran jerks away as though Yoosung’s skin burns, the alarm blaring loudly now. Fuck. God. Oh no, no, no, absolutely not. “I think that’s enough kissing,” he says roughly, pushing away from Yoosung and standing, ignoring the hazy look of confusion it earns him. This is not good. He needs a moment to himself, to think, to fix this. Where can he go? They’re in his sanctuary, the place he usually hides away but oh! That’s right. “I’ll be right back,” he mutters, gaze locked on the floor as he scurries out into the hall, shutting the door behind him.

This is bad.

This is very, _very_ bad.

The bathroom is just a few steps and a corner away, thankfully empty as Saeran slips inside and locks himself in. The mirror is there, taunting him as always as he steps up to it, a hand threading into his hair to tug, to pull, to ground himself.

What the fuck is he doing?

Does he even know?

Saeran shoves his fist in his mouth and bites down as hard as he can, groaning in frustration. He’s letting his guard down around Yoosung too much, letting that kid wiggle in and actually begin to _matter_ to him. If he matters then he holds the power to hurt Saeran and that’s unacceptable. Saeran refuses to be hurt again.

When he’d called Yoosung his friend, he hadn’t meant it. He’d only said it to make the other man happy.

The fist he’d bitten has dark red marks and as he stares at it, he wonders if it’ll bruise. Good. A reminder if he starts to forget again.

_Knock knock._

The noise surprises Saeran and he jumps, staring at the door warily. Has he already been in here long enough to worry Yoosung?

“Saeran? Are you okay?”

Fuck. Dropping his hand from his hair and shoving the other in his pocket, he slowly unlocks the door and peers out to see a concerned and slightly guilty Yoosung. “Fine. Just needed a moment to breathe.”

“Okay… um…” Yoosung shuffles on his feet awkwardly before continuing. “I’m sorry if… if I did something or pushed it too far. I didn’t meant to.” Groaning, he shakes his head. “I sometimes forget about the whole touch thing.”

Saeran blinks in surprise. Yoosung’s blaming himself for this? “Oh, uh. It wasn’t you, puppy.” Forcing a small smile, he pokes Yoosung’s nose. “You were fun to kiss like usual. This was all on me. Don’t worry,” he says as he taps his temple.

He’s rewarded with a frown. “Are you sure? You just… if you just tell me what to do, I’ll do it, I swear. I don’t want to do anything wrong.”

Despite his conviction to not let Yoosung in any further, that small declaration warms Saeran’s heart. He’s not sure what to say to that. Thankfully he’s not forced to come up with anything, as a sudden noise of something falling and a muffled curse causes both of them to jump. Oh, right. They’re in the hallway. Bad place for this sort of conversation.

“We shouldn’t talk about this out here. Go back to my room, I’ll be right there.” Saeran places his hands on Yoosung’s shoulders and gently turns him around.

“Okay.”

Saeran watches Yoosung round the corner to his room and sighs, running a hand through his hair. Okay, walls back up. Rebuild those fuckers and make them about ten times stronger and lined with barbed wire so no one - not even cute, sweet blonds- can scale them or knock them over.

Deep breath.

Move forward.

Slipping his hands into his pockets, Saeran forces himself to walk back into the room as casually as possible. Alarming Yoosung further would only prove both to be annoying and a hindrance; he has no desire to field any questions or be accidentally triggered again.

Yoosung’s face snaps up to look at him the moment he enters, relief flitting quickly across his features. “I… uh… did you want to talk about it?”

Yeah, no. “No.” The single word is said with much more force and attitude than Saeran means and he winces when he sees Yoosung shrink a little, then in turn cringes internally at the fact that he even cares enough to wince in the first place. Damn. “There’s nothing you can do and talking about it won’t help.” He motions at the books, raising an eyebrow in question. “Studying more, or…?”

Yoosung nods, staying silent. The spot where Saeran had been sitting is still open, books still piled around it but not on it. He should go sit there. It’s a safe distance away, comfortable. Perfect.

Instead he finds himself sitting next to Yoosung.

Reaching behind him to move the books out of the way.

Scooting even closer.

Fuck.

Conflicted and surrounded by the intoxicating scent of Yoosung, Saeran slowly brings a hand up to Yoosung’s chin, his thumb trailing across those soft lips. He’s staring. He knows he’s staring, but god, all he wants to do is kiss him again. Why? Why does he want this so bad? Why can’t he seem to stay away like he had planned?

“I don’t know why I want to kiss you again so much,” he admits in a whisper, brows dipping in confusion. This is weird. This whole thing is _weird._

Yoosung’s eyes widen just the slightest as hope blossoms in them, their gazes locked together. “I want it, too,” he whispers back. “Maybe… I’m a good kisser?”

“You are,” Saeran confirms, still rubbing his thumb across the source of his temptation. Yoosung is, actually, an _incredible_ kisser. Not that Saeran has any experience to compare it to, but it’s something he just knows. It’s part of the reason it’s so fun, so… “I’m sure that must be why.”

“You are too.”

He’s a good kisser? That’s unexpected but certainly not unwelcome. Smirking, Saeran drops his thumb and leans closer. “Imagine that,” he breathes against Yoosung’s lips before finally closing the distance between them once more. A soft sigh preludes Yoosung tilting his head for a better angle, something Saeran takes quick advantage of. Sliding his hands up Yoosung’s chest, Saeran gently pushes him down, following in a refusal to let their lips part for even a second. Soon Yoosung’s on his back with Saeran hovering over him, their kiss growing a little hotter, a little more passionate.

His body feels like it’s moving on its own without a care for his worries, but Saeran’s mind isn’t focused on the concerns from earlier. As he lowers himself to rest on top of Yoosung, he licks along the seam of his lips, sliding his tongue inside when he gasps and opens his mouth. This all seems so different from what he’s used to and he has no idea what to expect, but he is going to surf the waves and see where they take him.

The slide of their tongues is as slow as the kiss from before, a dance for only the two of them. Yoosung’s moan is answered with an echoing one, each soft sound adding a layer of fog to Saeran’s already perilously clouded mind. Maybe it should be alarming, the fact that with every soft drag, every light lick he feels his heart flutter like a bird about to take off. Maybe later he’ll look back on this and angrily clip its wings, caging it to never again see the sky freely. But for now… for now he’s going to enjoy this.

Soft hair is between his fingers before Saeran even realizes he’s touching it, threading them through the blond locks and tugging just the smallest amount. Yoosung moans again and he hums in response, pleased with all that is happening. Happy. Like this he can feel every shiver, every shake from the man beneath him. He can hear every catch of breath and every noise of pleasure spurring him forward, wanting nothing more than to make him feel good.

Their lips part with a soft pop, both of them gasping for air. Saeran gazes down at Yoosung with the same soft wonder as before, just marveling at how lucky he is to be here in this moment. “What do you want me to do?” he asks quietly.

Yoosung’s voice is barely audible over their heavy breathing. “Anything.”

“Mm.” Saeran begins to lay kisses along the line of Yoosung’s jaw, heating up even more from that single word. “What do you want to do?”

Another shiver. “Anything you want me to do.”

“Always so willing to be obedient.” The kisses move to Yoosung’s neck, still just as gently as before. “To let me handle your leash. Tell me: what did you think of my thank you at the carnival?”

The answering whimper is heavenly. “I l-liked it. I th-think about it a lot.”

Saeran smiles against Yoosung’s skin. He thinks about it, huh? That’s good. “Oh? You _think_ about it. Why? Do you do anything…” Pausing, he licks from the base of Yoosung’s neck up to his ear. “... _fun_ when thinking about it?”

“Y-yeah.” His words come out as some cross between a whimper and a whine, causing a thrill to shoot through Saeran. God, he loves the way Yoosung sounds when he gets like this.

“Show me.” Saeran whispers the words but they’re still as firm and demanding as ever. Sliding off of Yoosung, he lays on his side, head propped up with a smirk on his face. “Show me what you do when you think of me blowing you.”

The look on Yoosung’s face is dazed but confused when he looks over at Saeran. “W… you want me to…?”

Nudging his way under Yoosung’s cheek, Saeran finds and takes his earlobe into his mouth and nips at it. “I want to see what you do when you remember the feeling of my tongue.”

“Are you s-sure?” It’s that same odd tone again, but the corresponding shiver doesn’t stop Saeran from reaching over to yank down Yoosung’s collar and biting down hard on the skin revealed to him.

“Did I stutter?” Mouthing his way across Yoosung’s neck, Saeran returns to his spot near his ear. “Do you remember how my mouth felt around your dick?”

Saeran’s eyes flick down to watch Yoosung’s hands shakily unbutton his jeans and he props himself back up. He waits until he hears the ‘yes’ and following muffled moan before continuing. “Warm and wet, my tongue licking it as I sucked you off?” The memory is arousing to him, but he’d never expected _Yoosung_ to hang onto it, let alone use it as fodder to jerk off to. “How did it make you feel?”

Those hands slip into the waistband of jeans as Yoosung lifts his hips and tugs them down. “R-really good. Sh-should I really do this?”

Yoosung’s protests must all be nerves, because as the jeans slide down Saeran’s able to see his dick straining against the fabric of his boxers. “Why not?” he asks, reaching out a finger to trace the outline he sees. “I want to see what thoughts of your dick in my mouth make you do. Just how much _practice_ are you getting out of me, puppy?”

“I… I haven’t done it m-much.” Every answer is whimpered quietly. The hands that have moved off the jeans twitch a little, like maybe Yoosung’s restraining himself.

Unacceptable.

“Show me,” Saeran urges in a husky voice, using his finger to slide teasingly over the bulge this time. “Show me, Yoosung. Be a good boy for me.”

Another whimper and then a hand is sliding down those boxers, that cursed piece of fabric keeping it hidden from Saeran. Yoosung lets out a gasp and closes his eyes when he grasps himself, his entire body trembling.

“Good puppy.” Saeran slips a hand into Yoosung’s hair and scratches lightly at his scalp as though he’s a real dog. “Now imagine that’s not your hand. That’s my mouth wrapped around your cock.” A moan and then movement can be seen, the sight riling up Saeran further. “Back behind that ride, anyone could’ve walked around and found us. Anyone could’ve seen me deep throating you while you moaned against your hand. Anyone could’ve seen how fucking hot you look when you’re being blown.”

Something must push Yoosung over the line from embarrassment into pure desire and he throws his head back, moaning. “S-Saeran…”

A growl rumbles low in Saeran’s throat at the sound of his name. Fuck, it sounds so _good_ coming from Yoosung like this. He wants to hear it more, to hear everything Yoosung has to give him. “Is this how you jerk off when you think of me? When you think of how wet and hot my mouth was as I worked your aching dick?” His hand twitches and he closes it into a fist so he doesn’t touch, mouth watering from his own words. He wants to do it again.

Yoosung nods. “Mmhmm,” he moans, hidden hand moving faster yet. “G-god.”

It’s amazing how restricting jeans can feel in little to no time. Saeran groans, beyond the point of just turned on as he watches Yoosung pleasure himself. Has anyone ever masturbated to him before? There’s no real way to tell, but the answer is probably no. Fuck, this is so hot. Retracting his hand from Yoosung’s hair, he pushes himself up and moves down the bed. “Do you want to feel it again?”

A hand flies up to cover Yoosung’s mouth as he nods. “P-please,” he begs in a whine.

That’s all it takes for Saeran to slip between Yoosung’s legs, tugging the jeans down far enough to not be in the way. Hooking his fingers in the boxers, he removes them quickly, pausing to appreciate the scene in front of him. God, he’s never wanted to suck anyone off more than he does now. He watches for a few more moments, eyes following Yoosung’s hand as it strokes fast before batting it away suddenly and swallowing him down without any preamble. A moan escapes him at the hot hardness he feels as he swirls his tongue around, doing his best to match Yoosung’s pace.

A muted cry comes from above him and Saeran glances up at Yoosung to see his now-freed hand tangled next to him in the sheets as he arches up into his mouth. Hmm. Maybe…?

Saeran places both of his hands on the mattress on either side of Yoosung’s hips, choosing not to restrain him at all this time. The urge to still be in control remains and he could easily take it all back, but he wants to try this. Wants to give Yoosung the chance to fuck his face and see what it’s like.

Purple eyes flutter open to meet Saeran’s and Yoosung moans lewdly, bucking up into Saeran’s mouth once. Okay, yeah. This was a good idea, Saeran likes this. A hand creeps over to Yoosung’s chest and the next time Yoosung rolls his hips upward, he drags his nails down the pale skin, leaving dark pink stripes in their wake. Marking him in a different way, a way the other man likes if the whine he gives is any indication.

“F-fuck, Saeran,” Yoosung breathes, beginning to thrust up in a semi-regular pattern. Saeran moans in answer, scratching down his stomach again. Hollowing his cheeks and beginning to hum, Saeran bares his teeth just enough for them to lightly scrape along Yoosung’s shaft once, rewarded with a particularly loud moan from above.

Their eye contact is broken when Yoosung throws his head back, breaths becoming more and more jagged. “I’m r-really close.”

Saeran hums a little louder in acknowledgment, nails sliding down his stomach once more and teeth dragging along his dick. Pain and pleasure, the combination that seems to absolutely murder Yoosung. The sounds above him increase in desperation and volume, despite the hand covering his mouth. Every thrust is harder, speeding up even more until suddenly Yoosung’s back is bowing and he’s crying out Saeran’s name. 

Moaning and continuing to bob his head while Yoosung empties in his mouth, Saeran slides a hand down to rub himself through his jeans, his own erection begging for attention. Fuck, he’s never been _this_ hard before. Everything feels so much more intense to him. He palms himself as he greedily devours every sound, every movement Yoosung makes, burning hotter any time his name is uttered. God, this is the best he’s ever felt after giving head. He licks and he sucks and he swallows until Yoosung flops limply on the bed, panting loudly and heavily.

Pulling back until Yoosung’s dick falls out of his mouth, Saeran moans softly as he looks him over. Eyes shut and mouth open, shivers still occasionally traveling down his body, hair plastered to his sweat-soaked forehead. Fucking beautiful. Saeran pushes up onto his elbows and scoots up, crashing their lips together hungrily, pain be damned. He can take medicine later if he must; right now all he cares about is Yoosung. Yoosung’s mouth, the soft gasp he gives at the connecting of their lips, the way he kisses back with equal hunger, a little sloppy post orgasm. The hair Saeran’s tangling his fingers into, the hands clutching onto his shirt, the quiet noises of pleasure.

Saeran’s going to combust.

The bed squeaks softly as he rolls them over, parting their bodies enough to fit a hand between them, with room to move. Yoosung lets go of his shirt, retracting his arms as though unsure what to do. One hand lands softly on Saeran’s hip and he freezes a moment in surprise at the gentleness behind the action before using his own unsteady hand to work at the button on his jeans. It takes a few tries but finally he gets it, pulling down the zip hastily and ungracefully shoving his hand in his boxers. He has to bite his lip to stifle the moan that threatens to break free when his fingers finally wrap around his throbbing cock, shuddering in relief.

The body across from him shifts a little before Yoosung pulls away, Saeran making a small noise of dissatisfaction in his throat. The hand still weaved in his hair feels the slight tilt of Yoosung’s head, tightening minutely at the soft gasp. “Do you want me to do anything?” Something about the way he asks catches Saeran’s attention; is that awe he hears? No, couldn’t be. That makes no sense and his brain is too clouded to dig any deeper into the matter.

The offer itself is almost too good to be true. Saeran groans, starting to stroke himself. “Keep making those noises, haaah… kissing me…” This isn’t working, his underwear is too confining and he just wants to feel it. Without a thought to his company, he loops a finger in them and shoves them down enough to let his cock bob free.

Before he gets a chance to start again, Yoosung’s shuffling closer. “Saeran, c-can I t-touch you?”

That’s his one rule, the one thing he’s abided by since he started giving blow jobs. He can touch others but no one touches him. It’s too easy to get lost in the pleasure and the moment after orgasm leaves him too vulnerable. Add in the occasional feeling of broken glass sliding across his skin and no, he’ll pass, thanks.

But this isn’t just some one-off he found scuttling the halls of Mint Eye; this is Yoosung. On any other day or perhaps even any other moment, he’d probably say no. With Yoosung’s orgasm fresh in his mind and the glow still lingering on that cute face, he finds he wants this. The only answer he gives is a grunt before he grabs Yoosung’s hand off his waist and wraps those warm fingers around his dick. He can’t help as he bucks into Yoosung’s palm, the fact that this hand is someone else’s somehow stirring him up more.

No. Not just anyone else’s.

 _Yoosung’s_ .

With a moan, Saeran crashes their lips together once more as his hand closes over Yoosung’s, guiding him in what feels best. It doesn’t take long for him to pick up on Saeran’s preferences and even take some initiative, but Saeran still doesn’t let go.

He doesn’t want to.

Yoosung moans and Saeran growls, speeding up their hands at the same time Yoosung’s grip tightens. These noises are going to send him right up in flames. “Fuck,” he groans, breaking the kiss, lunging down to bite Yoosung’s neck and thrusting into their conjoined hands.

“Oh, S-Saeran,” comes a soft whimper, setting his blood on fire. His name, his name, every time Yoosung says his name like that it makes him go crazy. He’s being wound tighter and tighter, like a damn spring except he’s going to shatter soon. It’s coming, sneaking up on him quicker than ever before.

Not much longer now.

Leg muscles taut and quivering slightly as he pushes forward into their hands, Saeran chases his release desperately. All it takes is a soft moan of “Saeran... mmf, G-God,” and he’s breaking, shattering into a million pieces as he gasps against Yoosung’s neck and arches his back. “Yoosung,” he moans loudly, thankfully muffled as every piece of him floats in a pool of ecstasy, pleasure washing over him in intense waves. He’s never had an orgasm this strong before, never felt so good when getting off. Usually it’s just a ‘let’s get this over with’ ordeal but this? This is something entirely different and he revels in it as their hands move in tandem, milking every last drop of pleasure out of him.

His legs tremble when he drops back onto the bed, breathing harshly. For moment he gazes at Yoosung, debating the merits of kissing him. He wants to, god, does he ever want to, but something is whispering that it’s a bad idea. That he can only get away with it so much before the pesky _feelings_ come into play and he can’t write it off as just for pleasure anymore. There’s no way he’s cultivating the growing like for Yoosung any further. Instead he grins lazily at Yoosung, taking in a few more breaths before saying, “we should probably clean up, yeah?”

Yoosung looks at him blankly and Saeran can almost see the cogs turning in his head before he blinks and blushes quite handsomely. “Oh… right, yeah,” he responds sheepishly.

The grin morphs into a smirk as Saeran props himself back up to reach over Yoosung and open the drawer to his bedside table. He pulls out a box of tissues and drops it between their bodies, catching a glimpse of their still-linked hands. Heart jumping, Saeran quickly lets go and grabs some to wipe himself down before carefully tucking himself back in and wiggling his jeans into place.

When he looks back up, he catches Yoosung sitting up, tissues in one hand while he stares hard at the mess on the other. “Would it be weird to…” he mumbles softly, trailing off before finishing the sentence.

Ah, Saeran thinks he knows where this is going. It’s only natural to be curious, after all. “You wanna try it? That’d be fucking hot.”

The flush on Yoosung’s face deepens but he doesn’t divert his eyes from the cum splattered on his palm and across his fingers. “Should… should I?”

“By all means, do,” Saeran encourages, watching as Yoosung slowly raises his hand to his face, tongue flicking out to lick up one of his fingers. Fuck. That’s hotter than he’d expected it to be, eyes zeroing in as Yoosung takes another lick, then another. God. Not like he really needs more images to think of when he’s alone but now he has another to add to the collection.

The collection that is mostly Yoosung by now.

Hope is spread across Yoosung’s face when he turns to look up at Saeran, his voice small. “Am I… am I good boy?”

Oh, shit. Distracted by his own daydreams, Saeran had forgotten the praise Yoosung yearns for so much, especially after something like this. His expression softens and he lifts a hand to brush some of Yoosung’s hair out of his eyes. “You were a _very_ good boy today, puppy,” he confirms with a genuine smile. “Is there anything else you’d like?”

Yoosung cleans off the rest of his hand with tissues, quiet for a moment. “Umm… more kisses?” Disposing of them in the small garbage can nearby, he pulls up both his boxers and jeans in one go, quickly buttoning them and laying back down.

Ah. The one thing Saeran was hesitant on. But it’s not a bad thing if Yoosung requests it, right? Then Saeran’s just doing him a favor, it’s not, like… he’s indulging himself and tiptoeing a fine line. Besides, Yoosung’s so cute it’s hard to turn him down.

“Whatever you want, cutie,” Saeran answers, slipping a hand behind Yoosung’s neck and pulling him closer, slotting their lips together once more. His other hand finds the  box of tissues and tosses it off the bed.

A content sigh comes from Yoosung and a hand finds its way back to Saeran’s waist, tugging them even closer together. Saeran feels high, like he’s floating in the sky and every soft smack of his lips against Yoosung’s sends him closer to the clouds he so desperately wants to visit. Is it left over from the orgasm? Possibly, but at the moment Saeran’s not to prone to caring. Gentle fingers begin to knead at Yoosung’s neck, working awkwardly at the tense muscles there. This feels foreign but also… right. Saeran’s not entirely sure where this gentle side of him came from nor is he sure he likes it, but… it won’t hurt anything…?

A shiver crawls down his spine when Yoosung takes the initiative to timidly lick at his lips, asking permission before taking action. Saeran obliges him, moaning softly when Yoosung goes as far as slipping his tongue into his mouth and sliding it against his own. A desperation is building in his core, one he’s unfamiliar with. Not quite sexual, more… emotional? Maybe? Either way, he’s suddenly yearning for more, wanting to be closer, touching Yoosung as much as he can. When he attempts to pull Yoosung in he comes willingly, pressing his body against Saeran’s and slipping his arm to rest on his back instead of his hip.

Electricity shoots through him and Saeran moans, a noise echoed by Yoosung. He’s burning up again, but it’s not the same. He breaks the kiss long enough to yank his sweater over his head, leaving him in a dark tank top before laying a hand between Yoosung’s shoulder blades and resuming. It’s still not close enough. There’s almost no space between their bodies anymore; how the fuck can he get closer? Confused, Saeran hooks a leg over Yoosung’s and tries to quench this desire, tightening it when Yoosung moans in his mouth. He can feel a similar desperation in Yoosung as he too tries to press as flush against Saeran as he can, a fact that makes him even hungrier.

Maybe touching skin directly will help…? Saeran slips a hand under Yoosung’s shirt, scratching softly along his spine and soaking in the soft noises and shivers he’s rewarded with. Still not quite enough, but it’ll do. The bed creaks again when he shifts further onto his hip to reach better, stretching out a leg as his nails drag down that skin again.

They both jump when the sound of crashing books startles them.

Saeran sits up quickly, eyes wide in alarm as he surveys his room, heart pounding madly in his chest. Stiff shoulders relax when he spots the pile of Yoosung’s books on the floor and he chuckles. It starts out quiet, then builds into a full on laugh which he muffles with a hand. “Oops,” he says, shrugging a shoulder carelessly.

A smile grows on Yoosung’s face and he joins in, giggling softly. “It’s not _that_ funny,” he comments, shaking his head in disbelief.

Oh, if only he knew. Saeran just sits there, laughter still shaking him as he holds up a hand. Stretching out all five fingers, he begins a silent countdown as he reins himself in, confusion prickling at the fact that something that usually pisses him off currently strikes him as funny. Five, four, three, two, one.

_Knock knock._

“Everything okay in there?”

Try as he might, Saeran can’t suppress an amused snort when Yoosung bolts into sitting position, eyes wide in veritable panic. “Yeah, just Yoosung throwing his books in a fit of rage,” he calls back, smirking. “Everything’s good.”

“Yoosung, are you okay?”

Raising his eyebrows, Saeran leans in closer to Yoosung. “Yeah, are you okay, Yoosung?” he whispers, laughter bubbling up inside of him again at the glare he receives.

“Yeah, I’m fine!” Yoosung’s hands comb through his hair, trying to flatten it in some places while poofing it in others. “Just maths making me angry. Jerk.” The last word is whispered, directed at Saeran.

With a wink, Saeran stands, buttoning and zipping his jeans before walking over to the door. Opening it, he leans against the frame and looks blankly at Saeyoung. “Look. I’m not hitting or killing him, okay? Just helping him study. Fuck off.”

There’s a tense couple of moments while Saeyoung searches Saeran’s face before he finally grins and claps a hand on Saeran’s shoulder. “Didn’t think you were. Just wanted to make sure the bunker didn’t eat you or something.”

Rolling his eyes, Saeran shrugs off his hand. “Whatever. Go away now.” He shuts the door and waits until he hears retreating footsteps to glances back at Yoosung. “Loud noises attract the warden.”

A soft laugh of relief tumbles from Yoosung. “That was close.”

Saeran waves a hand at the door. “It’s fine. Don’t worry.” Striding over to the bed, he leans over and picks the books off the floor, setting them on the desk this time. “What subject are we doing now?” As much as his body is screaming to go back to kissing Yoosung, back to being pressed up against him and bathing in everything he is… he needs a break. There’s a lot of conflicted emotions circling in his mind and the act of making out isn’t helping the issue.

“Oh, um…” Disappointment flashes through Yoosung’s eyes and he lowers his gaze to the bed. “I don’t mind,” he mumbles unconvincingly, shrugging.

At least Yoosung seems to want to keep going as much as Saeran does. Whether or not that is a relief is up for debate, as far as Saeran’s concerned. He grabs a random book and looks at it. “What about biology? Think you need to work a little again to get another reward.”

Yoosung sighs heavily. “Stupid Seven.”

The grumpiness in those two words makes Saeran guffaw. “Yeah, he _is_ stupid,” he agrees as he flips open the book, searching for a practice quiz. “But he serves his purposes. Like reminding me what I’m _supposed_ to be doing.” Ah, there’s one. He reads over the first few questions quickly, inwardly horrified at how little he actually knows. Well, hopefully Yoosung does better than him. Taking a deep breath, he starts asking questions.

The groan that Yoosung gives is indicative of how the next half hour goes. It’s apparent that he’s too distracted to properly focus, flubbing most of the questions without acting like he cares. It’s painful, even for someone who hasn’t ever attended public school. “Alright, that’s enough,” Saeran finally says, leveling a look of amusement at Yoosung. “You seem… distracted. Do we need to up the stakes here?”

“To...what?”

Saeran leans back and casually flips the page to the rest of the questions. “How about every time you get a wrong answer, you have to…” Pausing for dramatic effect, he doesn’t bother to look up to see Yoosung’s face. “...take off something you’re wearing.”

“I...what!?”

It’s a struggle to hold in the snicker rising from Yoosung’s shocked tone, but Saeran manages. “It’s incentive to answer them right, yeah?”

“I...uh…” A brief pause. “Really?”

Huffing out a breath, Saeran rolls his eyes and glances up at Yoosung. “Really. One wrong answer, a piece of clothing gone. But one _right_ answer… hmm. A kiss, maybe?”

The look of irritation that had been resting on Yoosung’s face disappears in a heartbeat and he sits up straighter. “Okay,” he answers without hesitation.

Chucking, Saeran shakes his head. “Wow. That was quick.” He taps the page over the next question. “Difference between prokaryotic and eukaryotic cells?”

“The… eukaryotic cells…” Yoosung furrows his brows, thinking. “They have membrane bound organelles? But prokaryotic cells don’t.”

What an immediate difference. Saeran doesn’t hesitate to lean in and press a soft kiss to Yoosung’s lips, lingering a moment before looking back down at the book. “White blood cells engulf bacteria through this process?” Oh my god. What the fuck is that word? Why did somebody make it a word? Is it even possible to pronounce?

“Phagocytosis.” Well, apparently the answer to that last question is yes, because Yoosung just did it effortlessly.

Two in a row with the added bonus of kisses. Yoosung really likes being kissed, doesn’t he? After glancing down at the book Saeran leans back in for another soft kiss, letting this one go on for a little longer. This is something he enjoys too, but if Yoosung keeps it up, Saeran’s going to have to move closer. “What do beta cells contain?” he whispers against Yoosung’s lips.

The way Yoosung’s eyes widen just a little tells Saeran that he doesn’t know the answer, but he still gives him a few moments, just in case. “They… um… they have… uh…”

With a grin, Saeran pulls back and motions at Yoosung’s shirt. “Off with it.”

Yoosung’s sigh is filled to the brim with frustration. “Really? Can I not just… just get another kiss?”

A laugh bursts free as Saeran shakes his head. “Wouldn’t be much of a reward if you got it when you can’t answer the question too, would it?” He bites his lip and folds his arms across his chest, smirking. “C’mon. Off with the shirt.”

Pink spreads across Yoosung’s cheeks as he looks down at his shirt. Hands fiddle with the hem of it before he yanks it up over his head, looking away from Saeran. “There. Happy?”

“Very. Now… What’s found in ch- chlo…” Saeran frowns down at the page. Stupid science words. “Ch-loro-plasts?”

“Chloroplasts, yeah. Uh… how many things are there that I have to name?”

“Uhhh… four.”

“Okay.” Yoosung’s eyes squeeze shut, counting off on his fingers as he lists off his answers. “DNA, ribosomes, thylakoids… and…” Pausing, his brows dip a moment. “Hold on… uh… oh! Electron transport proteins!”

“That’s better.” Another kiss, but he keeps this one shorter than the last. An idea forms in his mind, one that might be even more incentive. He’s going to increase the length of each kiss with each correct answer, hopefully making Yoosung more desperate to answer right. “What next… what’s found in plant cells but not animal cells?”

“A central vacuole.”

True to his plan, this kiss is a little longer and Saeran allows himself a moment to enjoy it as well. “In a plant cell, where is the DNA found?” he asks once he’s pulled back.

Yoosung whines softly. “Can’t the kisses be longer?”

“Keep answering right and they will be,” Saeran answers with a smirk.

A loud and overly dramatic sigh comes from Yoosung. “Ugh. Okay, um… the mitochondria and the nucleus.”

Hmm… Saeran looks at the book, then back at Yoosung. “One more,” he says, tapping the page with a raised eyebrow.

“I...what? Oh… um… Oh! The chloroplasts.”

“Good boy.” Saeran reaches around and grabs the nape of Yoosung’s neck, pulling him in for a longer kiss. A soft squeak gives away Yoosung’s surprise at the sudden movement but he quickly relaxes into it, and for a short while they just lose themselves to the movement of their lips.

Despite his reluctance to do so, Saeran forces himself to pull away and check the time. Just one more question should do it… and then maybe they can kiss some more. “What process produces ATP by substrate level phos...phorylation?”

Yoosung frowns. “I… uh…” He pauses. “Wait, no, I have to know this,” he says, desperation lacing his voice. “Um… it’s… uh…”

Raising an eyebrow, Saeran takes pity on him. “Last chance, puppy, or you’ve gotta take something else off before you get your reward for working so hard.”

“Wait, wait, wait! Hold on, I can… I can remember…”

After a few more moments Saeran laughs. “I’m calling it. Take off those pants, then tell me what you want for your reward.”

Burying his face in his hands, Yoosung groans. “Why are you like this?” he whines, prompting another laugh from Saeran.

“Why am _I_ like this? Because it’s fun to see you blush that like. You act like I haven’t seen your fucking dick already. Just take them off.” This is way too much fun. He’s thriving off of Yoosung’s embarrassment about the situation.

Yoosung groans again. “ _God._ Okay, fine, whatever.” Standing up, he turns around so his back is to Saeran, slowly peeling off his jeans and kicking them away. It looks like he folds his arms, and Saeran’s willing to bet that cute face is on fire. “Happy?”

Chuckling, Saeran stands and walks to stand in front of Yoosung. Yeah, definitely blushing. “Happy as I can be, cutie.”

“You’re such a jerk.”

“You needed the motivation,” Saeran says with a cock-eyed grin, stepping closer. “And now I get to see that hot body of yours.”

Yoosung’s frown deepens. “Hmph.”

“Is puppy mad at me?” Saeran pouts. “Then I’d better make it up to him. I only want him to feel good when he’s here, after all.” He rests his hands on Yoosung’s shoulders and leans down, nibbling along Yoosung’s collarbone. God, he tastes good, and a shudder only encourages him forward. A little harder nip begets a whimper and Saeran smiles against Yoosung’s skin a moment. He’s so sensitive. He loves it. Continuing to nibble across, he slides his hands slowly down Yoosung’s arms, licking up to the base of his neck when he reaches the end.

“I’m s-still mad at you,” Yoosung insists, but there’s no bite in his voice anymore.

“Are you? Better keep going then.” Nails drag lightly down the side of Yoosung’s stomach as Saeran drops to his knees, kissing and licking his way down until he reaches the waistband of Yoosung’s underwear. He dips his tongue underneath and drags it across teasingly.

“Mmh, if y-you think you can just… just blow your way out of this, then… you’re…” A gasp interrupts Yoosung’s sentence.

Raising his eyebrows, Saeran sits back on his heels and looks up at him expectantly. “Then I’m…?” he prompts, trying to restrain the laughter he feels trying to break free.

Yoosung turns his face away, refusing to look at Saeran. “Mistaken. It’s not my fault my body’s betraying me.”

The laughter comes spilling out as Saeran stands and tweaks Yoosung’s nose playfully. “You _can’t_ be mad at me, you know. _You_ agreed to these terms.” The corners of Yoosung’s mouth are twitching. Saeran shakes his head, amused. “So. What do you want this time?”

“Oh, um… huh. I don’t know what else…”

“You’re an innocent one, aren’t you?” Saeran reaches out to ruffle Yoosung’s hair, feeling victorious when Yoosung drops his arms to his side and looks at him again. “Have someone in front of you offering pretty much anything and you can’t even  come up with an idea.” He pauses, letting it hang in the air. “Do you want me to kiss you?”

Yoosung huffs. “Yes. Do it.”

Smirking at Yoosung’s tone, Saeran steps closer and leans in, locking their lips together once more. A soft sigh and Yoosung presses back a little more, shuddering when Saeran slips a finger in Yoosung’s waistband and slides it across his stomach. He’s not sure if anything will come of his playfulness right now, but that’s okay. He enjoys teasing Yoosung enough for that to be the reward.

Yoosung opens his mouth and Saeran takes the opportunity to slide his tongue in, finding Yoosung’s and dragging them together. There’s very few places on Yoosung’s body that he hasn’t touched by now, but there is one he’s been wanting to squeeze since he first saw him in person. Removing his finger from Yoosung’s boxers, he creeps his hand around until it rests on Yoosung’s ass. Oh god, it already feels as good under his palm as he’d hoped. He squeezes, growling when Yoosung lets out one of the loudest moans he’s ever heard from him.

“Mmm. You have a really nice ass, by the way,” Saeran whispers against his lips, bringing his other hand to it as well. If Yoosung liked him squeezing it… he slaps one cheek roughly out of curiosity.

Yoosung moans even louder, pulling back from the kiss to cover his mouth with a hand, eyes wide in shock. That won’t do. Saeran groans, grabbing his wrist and yanking it away so he can slam their lips back together, wincing in pain but not stopping. He’s going to regret this tomorrow, there’s no doubt. But Yoosung likes having his ass touched and spanked and _fuck,_ that’s hot. He slaps it again.

Another moan, this one swallowed by Saeran as Yoosung’s hands shoot up to fist in his shirt, pulling them even closer together. God. Breaking the kiss, Saeran bites Yoosung’s shoulder, hard, sucking on the skin. It’s been awhile since he’s been able to mark the clear skin of Yoosung’s torso. It’s time to do it now.

Yoosung’s head tilts back and he whimpers, grip on Saeran’s shirt increasing as his legs start to quiver beneath him. The last thing Saeran wants is for Yoosung to collapse so he slides his hands down to grip Yoosung’s thighs, hefting him up and stumbling over to the wall. Thank God he’s so small, otherwise Saeran probably wouldn’t have had the strength to lift him anymore. He presses Yoosung’s back against the wall, shivering when the hands gripping his shirt move up to grasp his shoulders as well.

Releasing the skin he’d been sucking on, Saeran moves almost methodically across the rest of Yoosung’s shoulder, leaving as many marks in his wake as he can. Every bite, every suck pulls a stifled moan from Yoosung and he groans against him, grinding their hips together as hard as he can.

But he wants to mark him more, in a more visible place.

“Wrap your legs around me. Tightly. I want my hands,” Saeran whispers in Yoosung’s ear, excitement shooting through him when he feels those legs slip round his waist and squeeze. Yoosung’s shaking more than before; Saeran briefly wonders if it’s from excitement or something else. Carefully he lets go with one hand, then the other, pleased when Yoosung’s secure against the wall. “Good boy,” he chokes out roughly, grinding into him again. One hand curls into Yoosung’s hair and he yanks his head to the side, biting down at the junction of his neck while the other slips behind to grip Yoosung’s ass again.

The grip on his shoulders tightens and Yoosung’s noises become more strained as he tries to stay quiet. A tragedy, surely. “One day I want to hear all of your sounds,” he growls when he pulls back from from Yoosung’s neck, releasing the blond hair to trace his lips instead. “One day I will draw every sound you can make from you and _he_ won’t be here.”

A powerful shiver wracks through Yoosung’s body. “I w-want to be loud for you,” he whimpers.

Saeran’s eyes flash and he groans lowly, rolling his hips forward. God, if only Saeyoung weren’t here, if only he could do that _now._ “And you will be, one day.” It’s more to remind himself than Yoosung. “When that day comes I want to hear how fucking loud you can be.”

“It’s r-really hard to stop myself.”

Leaning forward, Saeran captures Yoosung’s lips once more. He can feel that Yoosung’s hard and he starts grinding in a semi-regular rhythm, slapping Yoosung’s ass again and drinking up every delicious moan like he’s about to wither away from dehydration. “You like this?” he whispers between kisses growing more and more heated, pressing even harder against Yoosung.

“Y-yes,” comes the whimpered answer. “G-god, Saeran.”

Saeran lets his hands roam over Yoosung’s thighs, sides, shoulders… anywhere he can touch while continuing the movement of his hips and sliding his lips against Yoosung’s. He can feel Yoosung trying to grind back and he bites at his lower lip, tugging at it before running his tongue across it to soothe it. The way Yoosung’s acting, the desperation he can feel… It’s getting him hard again. But that doesn’t matter right now. His primary desire is to make Yoosung feel good.

“F-fuck,” Yoosung groans, tipping his head back so that it thunks against the wall. “S-Saeran, fuck.”

“Are you getting close?” Saeran asks, nipping along Yoosung’s jaw.

“Mm, y-yeah. B-bite me.”

God. Saeran’s never been good at holding up against Yoosung’s begging. Groaning, he grinds against Yoosung harder. “Only if you cum for me, cutie,” he says in a husky voice before latching his teeth onto his shoulder as hard as he can.

“P-please, Saeran,” Yoosung pleads, rolling his hips against Saeran. “I’m r-really… I’m s-so close…”

Saeran moans against the skin, giving it one last suck before pulling back a moment. Where should he bite next? He’d love to mark Yoosung right underneath his jaw, but… that’s probably not a good idea. Instead he dips his head down and bites at his nipple, slapping Yoosung’s ass firmly.

Muscles tense in the body against him and suddenly Yoosung’s burying his face into his neck, muffled cries and moans spilling forth as he shakes against him. The grip on his waist falters and Saeran quickly slips his hands back down to hold Yoosung’s thighs, continuing to grind against him, licking and sucking at the hardened nub to help him ride out his orgasm. “Good boy,” he murmurs, groaning when he hears his name whimpered amongst the other noises of pleasure.

When Yoosung goes limp, leaning heavily against Saeran, he lifts him away from the wall and walks back to the bed, carefully laying him down. “Such a good boy,” he praises, pressing kisses to the sides of Yoosung’s mouth. “Very good puppy. Worked so hard today.” He watches as Yoosung’s eyes flutter open and he looks at him with that same strange expression as earlier. God. What is that?

“Thank you,” Yoosung says between gasping breaths.

“Thank _you.”_ A long, gentle kiss is deposited on Yoosung’s lips before Saeran pulls back and stands. “For letting me make you feel good. Let me get you something to clean up with.” He takes a moment to adjust himself in his jeans, flashing a soft smile at Yoosung - who’s _still_ looking at him in that odd way - before he strides over to the door and opens it to slip unseen into the bathroom.

Thank God for Vanderwood still coming round, otherwise he probably wouldn’t be able to find a clean washcloth as easy as he does. Holding it underneath hot water, he lets it heat up before squeezing out the extra moisture and shutting off the faucet. It occurs to him that this is something he’s never done for himself; he’s always used the tissues he keeps close by. So why is he doing this for Yoosung?

You know what, never mind. He doesn’t want to know the answer.

He tosses the cloth to Yoosung when he walks back into the room, shutting the door once more. “Thought it’d work better than tissues.” True, but there’s something more than that at work here. He’s going to ignore it.

Yoosung catches it easily. “My underwear’s ruined, though,” he mumbles, face flushing again.

“Heh.” Saeran chuckles again, smirking. “Guess you’ll just have to be naked, then.” He casually starts picking at his nail polish as though there’s nothing remotely amusing about that statement.

“I… can’t put my clothes back on now?”

Not at all surprised by that, Saeran heaves a sigh. “No fun at all. Fine. Get dressed.” Turning away to hide the smile on his face, he takes a few steps toward his dresser in preparation.

“Um. Can I… can I borrow…?”

Saeran glances at Yoosung over his shoulder, noting he’s already put his shirt back on. There’s not a doubt in his mind as to what Yoosung’s asking for, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t going to drag it out. “Borrow what?”

Fiddling with the washcloth instead of looking at Saeran, Yoosung’s cheeks flush again. “Uh… some underwear.”

In one swift movement he has the top drawer open, fishing out a pair and tossing it over his shoulder at Yoosung. He doesn’t need to ask if he should remain facing away; with how sensitive Yoosung seems to be about his body, it’s pretty obvious what the answer would be. Silly, really, considering Saeran’s seen basically everything by now.

“Okay."

Taking that as a signal he’s free to turn around, Saeran pivots only to have the breath knocked out of him at the sight of Yoosung in just a shirt and _his_ boxers. “Hot,” he comments, snickering when Yoosung blushes again.

“Whatever,” Yoosung mutters, pulling his jeans on.

“It’s hot to see you in my underwear. Maybe you should wear them more often,” he suggests nonchalantly.

Yoosung shrugs. “Maybe we should do _that_ more often.”

“Grind against the wall? I’m game.” Grabbing his phone, Saeran checks the time. “Oh, shit. Um. Are you hungry? Should we order a pizza or something?” They’d studied well past when he usually attempts to eat dinner, but in his distraction, he hadn’t noticed.

Yoosung shakes his head, buttoning his jeans and then starting to gather his books. “No thanks. I should probably be getting home anyway.”

Saeran raises an eyebrow. Is he running again? This was the first time they’ve done anything since they made the agreement; is Yoosung having doubts now? It’s entirely possible, but god, he hopes not. This outlet is nice, an easy way to blow off steam without hurting anyone. It would suck to lose that again.

Because that’s all this is. Just a way to blow off steam while having fun with a cute guy. It doesn’t mean anything else, no matter how complicated he feels at times.

Either his thoughts are painted across his face or Yoosung can read his mind, because as soon as the books are all packed up, he shakes his head at Saeran. “No, I’m not upset. I’m supposed to do some runs with my guild tonight and I’m already late. Kinda lost track of time.”

“Wonder why that would be,” Saeran snorts, winking when Yoosung rolls his eyes at him. “I’ll walk you out.”

Backpack hefted over his shoulder, Yoosung leads the way out to the bunker door, waiting there as Saeran goes up to tap the door of Saeyoung’s workroom. The click resounds and he steps back down, tipping his head to the side as he waits for Yoosung to leave.

Yoosung shuffles a little, almost seeming like he doesn’t want to go. “So… were you serious about getting piercings together?”

Eyebrows raised, Saeran nods. “Hell yeah. If you want to go sometime, just let me know. I’m game for anything like that with you.”

A bright smile breaks across Yoosung’s face and Saeran can’t help smiling back. “Okay! I’ll text you?”

Saeran nods. “Cool. Have fun with your game.”

A wave, another smile, and Yoosung’s gone, leaving Saeran all alone with no distraction from his own emotions.

Fantastic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is a tidbit from the rp that got cut out since the chapter is from Saeran’s POV but I still wanted to share it because it makes me laugh:
> 
> Yoosung groans but goes with it. He's too distracted to focus properly, but he keeps trying. {It doesn't help that the memory of Saeran cumming into his hand keeps popping into his head, but... well... that counts as biology, right? God, what is he saying?}


	10. Chapter 10

**Yoosung**

Yoosung never thought he’d ever think of another guy as beautiful. Beautiful is a word he associates with girls, yet here he is, remembering Saeran’s face as he came into his hand and thinking of it as beautiful. It really, really was. He can’t get the image out of his head and he’s not sure he wants to either.

He hasn’t stopped thinking about Saeran much, if at all. Of course, he has no romantic feelings for him, but the excitement of his first sexual encounter is doing something to trick his brain into thinking about it in that way. There’s no harm in that, right? As long as he doesn’t _actually_ get confused in person. It’s not his fault the thought of Saeran triggers his happy hormones.

He also keeps thinking about the whole piercing thing. Should he get one? He wouldn’t know what to get. Ears would be safest, but Saeran seemed enthusiastic about one that makes more of a statement, like on his nose. But he also really likes Saeran’s snakebites. He’s not sure he’d get them, but maybe just one lip piercing? God he doesn’t know, but right now he’s feeling impulsive!

 

**To: Cutie Saeran**

**(11:14)** Let’s get piercings!!

 

The response is surprisingly quick.

 

**To: Yoosung**

**(11:15)** Today?

 

**To: Cutie Saeran**

**(11:15)** Yeah! I suddenly really feel like getting one :3

 

**To: Yoosung**

**(11:16)** Ok, sure.

**(11:16)** Come by the bunker whenever and we can go get some.

 

Yoosung almost squeaks with excitement as he rolls over onto his tummy on his bed. He pokes at his nose and then his lip. Hmm, which should he get? He can imagine the lip one would hurt less, but then he won’t be able to kiss Saeran. He frowns. That shouldn’t bother him so much. Oh well, it didn’t exactly stop them last time. Yoosung smiles as he rolls to the edge of his bed and stands up to get ready.

 

* * *

 

“Hi!” Yoosung smiles at Saeran as the bunker door opens, but he’s suddenly a little more nervous now that this is becoming a reality.

“So, piercings?” Saeran asks with a smirk as Yoosung walks inside while Saeran grabs his bag and shoes.

“I can’t believe you talked me into this,” he mumbles.

“Hey, it was your idea to suddenly get them today,” Saeran points out, raising his eyebrows. It’s so infuriating that he’s right. “You don’t have to, but damn if you won’t knock everyone off their feet more than you already do.”

“I… what?” Yoosung says in surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah?” Saeran chuckles and shakes his head. He seems to be in a good mood today and it makes Yoosung happy. “You’ll probably be able to find yourself that _girlfriend_ you’ve been wanting in no time.”

Yoosung furrows his eyebrows. “Why do you say it like that?” Honestly, he’s forgotten all about looking for a girlfriend recently.

“You keep saying this,” Saeran gestures between the two of them, “is only for practice. You also keep saying you don’t like guys. So that means you’re practicing for your girlfriend, right?”

“Oh… right. Yeah,” Yoosung says, nodding. Why does he suddenly feel so weird about that? That _is_ what this has always been for. “Yeah, that’s what it’s for. And you think getting a piercing will help?”

“Hell yeah,” Saeran says. “What kind are you gonna get?”

“I was thinking my lip or my nose,” Yoosung says, considering it again. “I looked it up, and apparently nose hurts way more, so I might go for lip first…”

“That would be fucking hot,” Saeran says, flinging his bag over his shoulder. Yoosung feels his face heat up. “Maybe one day I can put eyeliner on you if you’re going for the whole ‘edgy’ thing.”

They step outside and close the bunker door behind them, starting to walk.

“Ooh yeah!” Yoosung says. “That’d be super cool.” He pauses. “By the way… how _much_ does it hurt?” He knows questions like this are probably annoying, but he’s never usually this impulsive.

“It’s like a sharp pinch and then it’s fine unless you keep playing with it.”

That doesn’t sound so bad.

“Like you do,” Yoosung points out, and Saeran shrugs.

“Yeah, I shouldn’t. They’re sore right now, but oh well.” Yoosung frowns at him.

“Then you should stop!”

“Easier said than done,” Saeran says, poking at the piercings again. “I keep wanting to play with them.”

“Noo!” Yoosung cries out overdramatically and grabs Saeran’s wrist, trying to tug his hand away. “Don’t do it!”

Saeran lets Yoosung pull his hands away and laughs softly, shaking his head.

“You’ll see how hard it is when you have your own,” he says. They reach the bus stop. It shouldn’t be too long before there’s a bus into town.

“You have to stop me if I play with them!” Saeran snorts at that.

“Okay, I’m sure I can keep your hands busy whenever you’re around me, but you’re on your own more often.”

“What?!” What do-” Yoosung cuts himself off, deciding not to rise to it. “Right. Okay. Well, it won’t be a problem anyway because I won’t poke them.”

Saeran looks at him doubtfully before closing his eyes tilting his face up to the sky, Yoosung feels something tug at his heart. Huh. That’s weird.

“You really like being outside, huh?” Yoosung says quietly. The peaceful look on Saeran’s face isn’t disturbed as his eyes flutter open and he glances at Yoosung.

“Yeah. But the clouds are my favourite.”

Yoosung hums in agreement. “Yeah, I like looking at the clouds.” He glances up at the sky and Saeran follows his gaze. “I like stars better, though.”

“Stars are nice too,” Saeran concedes. “I always meant to learn more about constellations but I never did.”

“There’s always time to learn!” Yoosung says with a smile. “I don’t know much about constellations to be honest. I just know my star sign is Pisces, so I can usually find that one. Aside from that I just think they’re pretty.”

“Star sign…” Saeran repeats, glancing down at the ground. Yoosung looks at him and sees a small frown on his face. “I’m not sure about mine.”

“Hmm, 11th June.” Yoosung thinks for a moment. “I think… that’s Gemini? Or maybe Cancer. I’ll look it up.” Yoosung pulls out his phone and does a quick Noogle search. “Yep! You’re Gemini! That’s the sign of the twins,” he says with a giggle.

“Twins. Of course.” Saeran rolls his eyes and there’s a moment of silence, and then he speaks as though he suddenly realised something. “You know my birthday?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. I mean it’s just the same as Seven’s, right?”

“Right.”

“It’s pretty soon! I’ll have to get you something!” he says excitedly. He has no idea what he could possibly get, but he’ll figure something out.

“I… what?” Saeran does a double-take at Yoosung’s words. “Why… no, it’s okay.” He seems flustered by the suggestion, and Yoosung can’t help but smile.

“I want to! We’re friends, right? This is what friends do!”

“Is it?” Saeran toys with the hem of his shirt. “I guess I wouldn’t know.”

“That’s okay. I can teach you,” Yoosung says, smiling at him in a way he hopes is reassuring.

The bus arrives and they climb on, sitting at the back. Saeran opts for the seat by the window, and they sit in comfortable silence for most of the journey until Saeran suddenly speaks.

“You never told me what you go to school for.”

“Huh? Oh!” Yoosung says, surprised by the sudden conversation. “I’m studying to become a vet.”

“A vet…” Saeran repeats. “I didn’t know you liked animals.”

“I do. My cousin used to have a dog, and I… I don’t know. The dog died and I guess since then I’ve wanted to be able to help animals.”

There’s a short pause after he says that, but this time it feels more weighted.

“Rika?” Saeran asks. Yoosung nods, a small but sad smile spreading across his face.

“Yeah, Rika. She had a dog called Sally.”

“I’m thinking of getting a snake one day.”

“Ooh, really?” Yoosung asks, perking up at the thought. “That sounds really cool!”

“Yeah, as long as Vanderwood gives me the go-ahead. Saeyoung says I had to get their permission.”

The bus reaches their stop and Yoosung quickly jumps up, closely followed by Saeran. Once they’re off the bus, Yoosung feels Saeran breathing against his ear.

“Nice ass,” he whispers, and then quickly walks past him like nothing happened.

“W-what?!” Yoosung says in shock, rushing to walk next to him. “Why did you say that?!”

“Because it’s true.” Saeran shrugs. “You do. I like watching you walk in front of me.”

Yoosung has no idea how he’s supposed to respond. Was he checking him out as they walked off the bus?

“I… okay, uh… I didn’t… I didn’t realise I had a nice… uhm…”

“You do,” Saeran says again as though it were an absolute fact. “Best I’ve ever seen. Best I’ve ever felt, too.”

Yoosung can feel his face starting to burn, and his stomach flips.

“You’re just saying that,” he mumbles.

“No.” Saeran suddenly stops walking and Yoosung looks at him in surprise. He looks kind of offended. “I don’t lie. If I tell you something it’s the truth.”

Yoosung twists round a little to try and look at his own ass. It’s nothing special. Just a butt. He frowns and shrugs.

“Guess I just don’t get it.”

“Not like you can really appreciate your own ass,” Saeran says with a snicker, shaking his head. “You’ll just have to take my word on it.”

“Hm, I guess.” Why can’t he stop his blush? Why does it feel so good that Saeran likes his ass? “I didn’t get to feel yours,” he points out.

“All in good time, cutie,” he says with a smirk as he starts walking again. He bumps Yoosung’s shoulder as he walks past. Yoosung stands still in surprise for a moment, eyes trailing down to Saeran’s ass as he walks. He quickly blinks and shakes his head, rushing to catch up.

“When?” he asks. He didn’t mean to sound so impatient. Saeran doesn’t answer right away, and Yoosung wonders if he upset him.

“You’ve already been allowed to touch me more than anyone else I’ve ever done anything with,” Saeran says in a low voice, running his fingers through his hair. “Yet you still want more.” He tsks, shaking his head. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Anything you want,” Yoosung blurts out, and then he slaps his hand over his mouth. Now is _not_ the time. “I mean… uh… I don’t know.”

Saeran grins in amusement but doesn’t say anything, instead pointing to the tattoo parlour quickly approaching. Yoosung’s suddenly hit with the realisation that he’s about to _actually_ get a piercing.

“Is that where we’re going?” he asks a little nervously.

“Yep.” Saeran opens the door and gestures Yoosung inside. “Don’t worry. They did good with mine.”

Yoosung nods and steps in. He can’t help but feel nervous. It’s kind of intimidating, but… he wants to do this.

Saeran steps around Yoosung and heads to the person manning the desk. “Piercings,” he says bluntly. “Tongue for me, and… I think he wants his lip done.”

Yoosung nods, hoping his nerves don’t show as he steps a little closer to Saeran. The man behind the counter takes their payments before beckoning them to follow him.

“Do you want to go first or should I?” Saeran asks.

“Uhm… can you go first?” Maybe seeing Saeran have it done will calm his nerves a little. Saeran nods and sits in the chair as the man goes to fetch the woman who will do their piercings. She introduces herself as Rosie, and has bright blue hair and lots of tattoos and piercings.

After a few moments of her explaining the dangers, she pulls out her tool and has Saeran stick out his tongue. She grasps hold of it carefully and lines up the piercing gun. Yoosung almost covers his eyes, and flinches when he hears the click. Saeran sits back, eyes watering, which does nothing to help Yoosung’s nerves.

“Is it okay?” Yoosung asks him worriedly. Saeran just grins and gives him two thumbs up, which is just about enough to put Yoosung at ease a little. “Okay, good.” He’s a little sad they won’t be able to kiss for a while, but it’ll be worth it in the end… right?

Saeran switches places with Yoosung. Rosie asks him which side he wants it on and he opts for the right. He looks at Saeran worriedly as she prepares. His nerves are crashing over him again. Saeran slips over to stand behind him, placing his hands on his shoulders and squeezing gently.

“You’ll be fine,” he whispers.

“Do you promise?” Yoosung asks in a small voice.

“She’s a professional, and she did mine. It’ll be over before you know it and then we can, I dunno, get ice cream or whatever you want.”

Rosie comes back round and draws a small dot on Yoosung’s lip, holding up a mirror for him and asking if the positioning is okay. He nods and squeezes his eyes shut as he feels her tugging at his lip to get it into position.

He feels the sudden pain and lets out a small squeak and his eyes start watering. He opens his eyes and blinks and he feels Saeran’s thumbs start rubbing circles in his shoulders.

“All done,” he whispers from behind him as Rosie holds up a mirror. Yoosung looks at it, eyes blurry because they’re watering. He wipes them with his sleeves and looks down at his lip. It looks strange, but he thinks he likes it!

“That’s so cool!” he says, leaning a little closer to the mirror to get a better look. “Thanks!” He turns to Rosie and smiles brightly, even though it aches a little to do. Then he looks at Saeran. “What do you think?”

Saeran smirks and leans forward, observing it closely.

“You look… fucking hot,” he finally says, flicking Yoosung’s nose gently. “Not so bad, yeah?”

Yoosung feels his face get warm and he glances at Rosie nervously, but she seems busy putting away her tools.

“Yeah… yeah, it’s not so bad. How’s yours? Can I see?”

Saeran opens his mouth and sticks his tongue out. It’s already starting to swell, but he’s not lisping yet.

“I like it!” Yoosung says. “This feels so weird. That must feel even weirder.”

Saeran shuts his mouth and shrugs. “A little. Weirdest part is my tongue getting fucking huge.”

Rosie laughs.

“Oh, it’ll get bigger yet,” she says, smiling.

“Fucking fantastic,” Saeran mumbles under his breath. Yoosung grins and stands up from the chair.

“Maybe you won’t be able to talk properly. That’ll be funny!” he says with a grin.

“Oh, will it?” Saeran walks around the chair and stands directly in front of Yoosung, smirking. “Guess I’ll just have to find _other ways_ to communicate with you.”

Yoosung feels his face heat up, and it gets even worse when he hears Rosie chuckle.

“Shut up,” he mumbles grumpily. Saeran just laughs and shoves him forward.

“Let’s go, grumpy.”

“You two are a cute couple, by the way!” he hears Rosie call from behind them, and he coughs in surprise. He’s too flustered to even correct her, instead tugging Saeran out as quickly as he can. As soon as they’re outside, Saeran starts laughing.

“Well, that got you moving fast.”

Yoosung lets go of Saeran and frowns. “Why does everyone think we’re a couple?” he grumbles, mostly to himself.

“Hell if I know. Don’t know, don’t care. Let’s get some ice cream.”

Yoosung brings his finger up and pokes at the metal stud there. It aches.

“It feels so weird,” he says. He _actually_ has a piercing.

“Don’t touch it,” Saeran says, gently slapping at Yoosung’s hand. “Or I’ll have to keep your hands busy. Little more difficult out here.” Yoosung starts blushing but lowers his hand anyway.

“ _That’s_ why people think we’re together! It’s because you keep saying stuff like that.”

“That explains Rosie, but the guy at the fair?” Saeran shakes his head. “I was on good behaviour that day, remember?”

“I don’t know,” Yoosung huffs. He pokes at the piercing again but quickly drops his hand. “So we can’t kiss at all now?”

“I mean, we could probably, but I don’t want an infection. That just sounds fucking disgusting.”

“Okay, that’s fair,” Yoosung says with a nod. “Can’t wait for your tongue to swell more, though. That’ll be funny.” He grins. Saeran turns on his heel and walks in another direction suddenly.

“Fuck you.”

“Hey! I was just kidding!” Yoosung says as he chases after Saeran, but he’s giggling. Saeran doesn’t respond. “You’re not _actually_ mad, are you?” Yoosung asks, pouting.

“What if I were?” Saeran asks. “What would you do?”

“I don’t know.” Yoosung frowns. “Try and fix it?”

“You’re no fun. There are so many better things you could’ve offered to make it up to me.”

“Well, I…” Yoosung has no idea what to say. “I never specified _how_ I would try and fix it.” Saeran pauses and glances at Yoosung. There’s an ice cream store a little distance away.

“Okay. Specify, then.”

“Uhm… I could…” Yoosung tries desperately to think of something. “I could buy you ice cream?”

“That’s acceptable,” Saeran says with a smile that looks genuine as he pushes open the door to the ice cream store and heads over to the soft serve machine, looking at the options.

“Are you sure ice cream’s good for, like… straight after a tongue piercing?” Yoosung asks doubtfully.

“Probably not. Also, don’t care.” Saeran shrugs and grabs a bowl, helping himself to the chocolate option. “Nothing will stop me from eating as much ice cream as I want.”

Yoosung rolls his eyes. “Of course not. One day you’ll eat so much ice cream, you’ll turn _into_ ice cream.”

“Would you like that?” Saeran grins at Yoosung, letting go of the handle and grabbing a spoon. “Would you like me as ice cream? Would you eat me? Wonder what flavour I’d be…” He taps his chin with his spoon thoughtfully. “Definitely bitter.”

“I… what?!” Yoosung squeaks, completely not expecting the sudden turn in conversation.

“Hmm… maybe with a bite at the end,” Saeran continues, acting as though he hadn’t heard Yoosung, even though he clearly did. “Bitter with a bite. Yeah, sounds like me.”

“You… you’re not…” Yoosung swallows and tries not to let Saeran get to him in spite of his already red cheeks. “I don’t think you’re as badass as you think you are.”

Saeran furrows his eyebrows at Yoosung. “Well, I didn’t say I tasted like _badass_ with a bite, did I?”

Yoosung looks at him doubtfully. “You said you’re ‘bitter with a bite’,” he quotes. “I think you’d taste like… I dunno. Strawberries or something.”

“Strawberries?” Saeran stares at him in confusion. “Why strawberries?”

Yoosung shrugs as Saeran starts making his way to the counter to pay.

“I don’t know. You’d be something sweet. And it’s my favourite.” He feels himself start blushing again and he shoves his hands in his pockets. “Nevermind.”

Saeran coughs a little as he pockets his change and shoves a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth. Yoosung looks down at the ground and scuffs his shoe.

“What do you think I would taste like?” he asks quietly. To his surprise, Saeran suddenly grabs his wrist and drags him outside and into the alley beside the store. It’s dark and quiet and feels pretty secluded.

“What happened to the person who was too embarrassed to talk about this kind of thing in public?” he asks, clearly amused. Yoosung looks at him grumpily and shrugs, not saying anything. Saeran places his spoon carefully in his bowl and backs Yoosung up against the wall of the building, his other hand coming up to rest beside Yoosung’s head. “What would you taste like? Hmm. Let me think…” Saeran leans in close and Yoosung’s breath catches as he feels his lips run down the side of his neck, shivering at the feather-light touch. “I think you’d taste like vanilla… and cherries… with maybe a hint of chocolate in there somewhere,” he breathes and then he pulls back to look up at Yoosung with a smirk.

“R-really?” he says breathlessly.

“Mmhm.” Saeran leans away enough to remove the weight from his hand and he slips another spoonful of ice cream into his mouth. “Which means you’d taste like two of my favourite flavours. What a coincidence.”

“Oh,” Yoosung says as he leans heavily against the wall. “That’s… that’s good.”

“What’s wrong, cutie?” Saeran asks, tilting his head to the side. Yoosung ignores how his heart jumps at the pet name. “You seem a little out of breath.”

“I’m fine,” he says, trying to control his breathing.

Saeran pauses, clearly considering something for a moment. He takes a large spoonful of ice cream and slips it into his mouth before immediately pressing himself up against Yoosung and pressing their lips together. Parting his mouth, he pushes the ice cream up against Yoosung’s lips, and Yoosung squeaks in surprise at the cold, opening his mouth to catch the ice cream before it dribbles down his chin. Saeran deposits the ice cream into Yoosung’s mouth and then licks the sweetness off his lips.

“Chocolate-covered Yoosung might just be my new favourite thing,” he whispers. Yoosung swallows the ice cream, his lips cold and sticky. Why did he find that so sexy? He shivers at the words.

“Maybe you can have it more often,” he breathes.

“Like now?” Saeran pulls back and puts another spoonful in his mouth and then presses their lips together again. He moans quietly as he takes the ice cream, and then shivers as Saeran licks Yoosung’s lips clean. Surely they shouldn’t be doing this with their new piercings?

“One more, then I’ll stop,” Saeran breathes.

Another spoonful, another soft press of lips.

Yoosung never knew ice cream could taste so good.

This time when Saeran licks at his lips, he also presses their hips together, moving in time with his licks. Yoosung whimpers. This is sticky and… kind of gross, if you think about it, but he loves it. Saeran keeps grinding and licking.

“S-Saeran,” Yoosung moans quietly. He’s still aware of the tongue piercing and… oh, they’re in public. “Your… piercing.”

“Shh,” Saeran shushes Yoosung softly, doing one final swipe of his lips. “It’s numb right now. Can’t feel much of anything. But I can taste you and you’re delicious.” Yoosung whimpers again.

“I l-like this,” he stammers.

“Which part?” Saeran asks, continuing the grinding. “The ice cream? My tongue? That we’re outside?”

“All of it,” he breathes. He can feel his body responding to Saeran’s grinding. “Sh-should we be doing this here?”

“Nope.” Saeran’s face is right next to Yoosung’s ear now. “Doesn’t that just make it more exciting?”

If someone had told Yoosung a few weeks ago that he would be doing this in public right now with his best friend’s twin brother, he wouldn’t have even thought twice before dismissing it as impossible. But, here he is.

“S-Saeran,” he moans as he grinds against him. He can feel that Saeran’s just as hard as he is.

“Yoosung,” Saeran breathes, looking at him through half-lidded eyes. “Take my ice cream.”

“W-what?” he asks in confusion, but even in his daze he reaches out and takes it. God, he loves when Saeran says his name like that. Saeran pulls back just enough to slip his hands down between them and fumble with Yoosung’s jeans, popping open the button and tugging down the zip.

“Don’t need to ruin another pair,” he teases lowly, slipping his fingers just beneath Yoosung’s waistband. “Do you want me to touch you?”

It’s wrong. Yoosung knows it’s wrong to do this here, even though they’re in the shadows, but he can’t stop the word “yes” slipping from his mouth. “God, Saeran… p-please.”

“Will you be a good boy for me?” Saeran growls, fingers dipping lower to brush the tips against the skin of Yoosung’s dick. Yoosung moans. “A good puppy who stays quiet and feeds me ice cream while I make him feel good?”

“Anything,” he says, voice desperate. “I’ll do anything.”

“Fuck, you’re such a good boy, Yoosung,” Saeran says, wrapping his hand around Yoosung’s dick and starting to stroke him immediately. Yoosung bites his lip to hold back a moan. “A good puppy who listens and does what he’s told. My good puppy,” he breathes. “Ice cream.”

Yoosung shakily scoops some ice cream, holding it out for Saeran. He wants to be Saeran’s puppy. He wants to do whatever he says and to be praised like that all the time. Saeran closes his lips around the spoon, never breaking eye contact with Yoosung as he pulls back slowly. He swallows, licking his lips and his hand never stopping.

“G-God,” he groans, body shuddering. How is Saeran so hot? How is it possible? How does he seem to know exactly what to do to get Yoosung worked up?

“More,” Saeran demands, bringing his free hand up under Yoosung’s shirt to scratch across his stomach. Yoosung tries desperately to suppress his moans and focus on getting another spoonful of ice cream.

“Th-this is really hard,” he stammers as he holds it up for Saeran.

“Mmm.” Saeran hums as he takes this bite, and it makes Yoosung feel like his entire body is going to explode. “But you’re doing so good, my puppy. So good.” He presses his chilled lips against Yoosung’s neck. “Such a good boy for me.” Yoosung throws his head back, pressing it against the wall behind him. He’s getting closer and closer by the second, and every touch from Saeran is sending shudders through his body. His words, too. He doesn’t know which it’ll be that will finally push him over the edge. He feels Saeran pulling his underwear down fully as he runs his lips up to Yoosung’s ear. “I wish I could lick you, take you in my mouth… show you just what a good boy you are.”

Yoosung can feel it building inside him now.

“S-Saeran, I’m c-close… oh _God_ ,” he stammers as his legs shake underneath him. Saeran leans back to look at Yoosung again.

“Another bite, please,” he says, bringing a hand round to squeeze Yoosung’s ass while he increases both his pace and grip of the other. Yoosung gasps and moans, and he brings up the spoon to dig into the ice cream, but as he lifts it for Saeran it finally hits him, waves of pleasure crashing over him as he bucks his hips towards Saeran’s hand. He shudders and whimpers and barely even manages to stop himself dropping to spoon as he rides out his orgasm, moaning Saeran’s name loudly. He feels Saeran quickly crash their lips together and ice cream fills his mouth once more as Saeran swallows down his moans.

Saeran keeps pumping until Yoosung’s done and then releases his grip on his ass. When Yoosung’s eyes flutter open, he looks down to see Saeran carefully wiping Yoosung’s dick off with some napkins he must have grabbed before tucking him back into his underwear and pulling his jeans up, zipping and buttoning them. Yoosung leans heavily against the wall, panting. He looks up at Saeran in a daze, still not having fully processed what just happened.

Saeran grabs the spoon from Yoosung but not the cup, instead bringing his other hand up to leisurely lick the cum splattered there. Yoosung lets out another broken whimper at the sight, and Saeran takes back the cup once he’s done.

“Thanks, cutie. You did a really good job.”

“I was a good boy?” he asks breathlessly.

“Mmm.” Saeran hums around the spoon in his mouth before pulling it out. “You were a _very_ good boy. My good puppy,” he murmurs, pressing their lips together softly.

Yoosung closes his eyes and presses into the kiss more, letting out a small moan as he does. He’s becoming aware of how sticky his mouth is from all the ice cream, but he really doesn’t care. If he pretends hard enough he can imagine that right now, in his blissful, post-orgasm daze, he’s kissing someone who genuinely cares about him. Someone he loves and who loves him back.

Eventually, Saeran pulls away and Yoosung opens his eyes in time to catch his smirk. Yoosung runs a hand through his hair, and is suddenly aware of how his piercing is aching.

“Ow,” he says, bringing his hand up to it in surprise. Saeran’s smirk morphs into a small apologetic smile.

“Oops,” he says softly. “Worth it.”

“Yeah,” Yoosung agrees, and he can’t help but grin as he pokes at his piercing. “My mouth is sticky from the ice cream.”

“So then clean it.” Saeran flinches a little. “Fuck.”

“Are you okay?” Yoosung asks, frowning a little. Saeran nods and looks down sadly at his ice cream. His piercing must be hurting too. He suddenly tips the cup up to drink the rest of the ice cream instead. Yoosung raises his eyebrows in surprise and giggles.

“It hurts that much?”

Saeran glares at Yoosung wordlessly over the rim of the cup as he finishes the ice cream. He then wipes his mouth with one of the last napkins.

“Let’s go,” he mumbles.

“Could I have a napkin?” Yoosung asks, pushing himself from the wall so he’s standing properly. Saeran hands him a napkin and then heads to a dumpster down the alley to toss away the cup and spoon. Yoosung wipes his mouth, careful to avoid the aching piercing. Maybe they shouldn’t have kissed so roughly. He walks to the dumpster on shaky legs and tosses it away. Saeran smirks a little.

“Gonna be okay? Should I carry you? Or…” Saeran slings an arm around Yoosung’s waist and pulls him closer, helping support his weight. Yoosung feels his heart skip in a really odd way, and he looks at Saeran in surprise as he raises an eyebrow in question.

“You want to walk like this?”

“Well, I don’t want you to fall,” Saeran says in amusement. “Just until your legs recover.” Yoosung drags his eyes away, ignoring how he can feel that his cheeks are slightly pink.

“Fine.”

“Hey, we don’t have to if you don’t want to.” The gentleness in Saeran’s voice surprises him. “Just… thought I could help.”

“Huh? No! It’s fine.” Yoosung could probably walk by himself, but he likes the feeling of Saeran’s arm around him like this. Saeran nods and starts walking. Slowly they exit the alley and turn in the direction of the bus stop, his arm tight around Yoosung the entire time. This should feel awkward and weird, but… it doesn’t. It’s even helping him forget the pain in his lip from the piercing. He _likes_ it. What does that mean?

They walk a little distance before Saeran speaks again.

“Do your legs feel steady?”

“Uhm… I think so?” he says, but it comes out sounding more like a question.

“Alright.” Saeran slowly releases Yoosung, arm hovering just behind him as though ready to catch him if he falls. Yoosung can walk fine by himself, but in all honesty he kind of misses Saeran’s arm around him. His hand comes up to poke his piercing, but he quickly lowers it back to his side and clenches his fists.

“This is so difficult,” he whines. He just wants to play with it. Saeran chuckles, and Yoosung’s heart jumps a little. He loves making him laugh.

“When you get home you’ll have to occupy yourself so you don’t think of it,” he suggests. “Maybe play that game of yours or something.”

“I could,” he says, nodding thoughtfully. “Maybe it’ll help distract me.”

“Whatever you need to do. Make sure you pass your exams too, okay?”

Yoosung blinks at Saeran in surprise. Does he really care? Or maybe he just doesn’t want all their studying to be a waste of his time. Yeah, that’s probably it. Yoosung looks back in front of him.

“I’ll try. I think our studying really helped.”

“Good,” Saeran says, relief obvious in his voice. “Vets are important. You might need to take care of my snake one day. If I get one.”

“Ooh, yeah! That would be cool!” Yoosung glances at him, grinning. “Or is this just your way to get healthcare for free?”

“I’m sure I could pay you for it.”

“Oh, that’s okay. I don’t mind really. You’re my friend, right? Friends have special privileges!”

“Do they ever,” Saeran says in a teasing tone, one corner of his lips curling up. “I… I’m glad you decided to be my friend.”

Yoosung smiles at him softly. “I’m glad you did too. I like hanging out with you. And not just for the… for all _that_ stuff.”

“Yeah. We should… watch more Doctor What sometime. Maybe when you’re done with exams? If you pass, I could… I dunno, do something special for you?”

“Really?” Yoosung asks, smile getting brighter. “Like what?”

“Well, it’d be a surprise, dork,” Saeran says, reaching over and ruffling Yoosung’s hair.

“Okay, fine,” Yoosung says, trying and failing to sound grumpy.

When they get on the bus, they sit in comfortable silence again, and Yoosung has time to think. His mouth still feels a little sticky. Why is Saeran feeding him ice cream with his own mouth so hot to him? Why is it that they can’t even go out in public without something happening? Is Yoosung really that desperate for physical touch? He must be. It must be a lifetime of sexual frustration which has built up and now suddenly has an outlet. And, weird as it sounds, he and Saeran seem pretty compatible in that… area. Saeran likes being in control, and Yoosung… well, he likes _being_ controlled.

But that’s the point, after all. To practice. To figure out what he likes. That’s it.

Yoosung’s thoughts are confusing him, and he isn’t sure how to react to them. He tries to distract himself, but no such luck.

“I can’t wait to see what people think of my piercing at school,” he blurts out. It’s the first acceptable thing that comes to his head. Saeran looks at him.

“You seriously look hot.” Yoosung blushes at that.

“Maybe I should get more piercings?”

“Like what?” Saeran asks, the ghost of a smile crossing his face. “You gonna do your tongue too?

“Hmm.” Yoosung thinks for a moment. “I could? Maybe. I’m not sure. Did your tongue hurt more than the snakebites?”

“”Yup. A lot more.”

Yoosung presses his lips together in thought for a moment.

“I think I could handle it,” he says. “Like I said, I’m pretty good with pain. This one hurt a bit,” he taps the lip piercing, “but it wasn’t so bad.”

“If you can handle it, then do it. It’ll look fucking hot on you.” Saeran sounds pretty convinced by this.

“Okay, I will! I like yours,” he admits. “It… it looks good on you.”

“Thanks,” Saeran says, smiling softly at Yoosung.

“I would say what you said, but I’m too embarrassed,” he admits, blushing a little and grinning sheepishly.

“Too embarrassed to call me ‘fucking hot’?” Saeran asks with a grin, snorting. “God, you’re too cute, you know that?”

Yoosung presses his hands to his face. “Shut up,” he mumbles.

“As you wish,” Saeran says. “But only because this is my stop.”

Yoosung sighs and lowers his hands as Saeran stands up and the bus comes to a stop.

“I’m not sure when I’ll next be able to see you, what with the exams.”

“That’s okay.” Saeran shifts past Yoosung and ruffles his hair as he does. “Work hard and pass them all, and I’ll see you with a reward, alright?” He shifts his bag on his shoulder. “Have a good rest of your day, Yoosung.” Yoosung looks up at him, smiling.

“You too! I hope your tongue heals okay.”

“It will.”

With a final wave, Saeran gets off the bus, leaving Yoosung to his thoughts and his aching piercing.

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm SO SORRY IT'S BEEN SO LONG!!! It's been one heck of a month, but hopefully I'll be able to write stuff faster now. Alex (StarlingHawke) has been so patient with me. I'm so lucky sobs ;__;

**Yoosung**

Yoosung’s getting a lot more looks from people at school now that he has a lip piercing. At first he wonders if they’re bad looks. Are they all looking at him because it doesn’t suit him? He knows he’s always been seen as more of the ‘cute’ type, so maybe it just looks strange. Maybe this was a stupid idea.

But then he gets a compliment. And another. And another. And then they keep on coming and he’s glowing for the entire week.

In biology he sits next to a pretty girl called Nari, who he’s had an on-and-off crush on for the entire school year so far. She has long, brown hair and it looks good whether it’s down or tied back. Yoosung especially likes it when it’s in a braid. Her eyes are pretty, too.

“Hey,” he greets her as usual on Thursday as he sits down next to her, ready for class.

“Hey,” she responds, looking up from her phone at him, and he sees her eyes flick to his lip. He smiles at her.

They’re about halfway through class when she speaks again.

“I like your piercing,” she says, not looking up from the notes she’s taking.

“Oh, thanks,” Yoosung says, absently bringing up his hand to touch it, even though he knows he shouldn’t. “I got it on impulse, to be honest.”

“It looks good on you,” she says, looking at him and smiling.

“Thank you.”

The rest of the class passes without a word, but when he stands to leave at the end she calls his name.

“Uh… Yoosung?” He turns to look at her in surprise.

“Yeah?”

“I was… uh, I was wondering if you wanted to go out for coffee after school?” she asks, not making eye contact as she stands from her seat. Yoosung blinks at her in surprise.

“Like a date?” he blurts out before he can stop himself. She presses her lips together nervously for a moment.

“If you want it to be,” she says eventually. Yoosung waits for his heart to skip, but all he gets is a dull kind of flipping in his stomach that tells him he’s nervous.

“Oh… okay. Yeah, I’d like that,” he says, smiling at her. She breathes out a sigh of relief and finally looks him in the eye.

“Great! I’ll meet you after school?”

“Sure.” Yoosung’s happy. Of course he is. Nari’s really pretty, and he _has_ had a crush on her for a while.

He doesn’t feel as excited as he should, but maybe it just hasn’t sunk in yet.

 

* * *

 

Yoosung glances at the empty seat across the table in the coffee shop. Nari’s in the bathroom at the moment, and he thinks the date’s going well so far. They haven’t been there long, so luckily they haven’t run out of things to talk about yet. For some reason his fingers are itching to text Saeran.

 

**To: Cutie Saeran**

**(17:10)** Hey!

**(17:10)** Everyone at school seems to love my new look lolol

 

Saeran replies much faster than he expected him to.

 

**To: Yoosung**

**(17:11)** Cool.

**(17:11)** I’m not surprised people like it. You’re hot.

**(17:11)** What have people said?

 

Yoosung feels his face get a little warm as he grins at the text.

 

**To: Cutie Saeran**

**(17:11)** This girl in my bio class said she liked it.

 

Yoosung doesn’t know whether to send the next message, but he does anyway. He’s not entirely sure why.

 

**(17:12)** She asked me out lol

 

It takes Saeran a little longer to respond this time, and for some reason it sends Yoosung’s heart racing. What’s Saeran doing right now? Did he read the text yet?

 

**To: Yoosung**

**(17:14)** Congrats cutie

**(17:14)** What did you say?

 

**To: Cutie Saeran**

**(17:14)** I’m actually out with her right now.

**(17:14)** We’re out for coffee but she’s just in the bathroom.

 

Why is Yoosung telling him all this? He’s not sure what kind of reaction he’s hoping to get, but he can’t ignore the voice in the back of his head telling him to do this. Saeran’s his friend, right? It’s not weird or anything. Also, he supposes he owes it to him to at least tell him, because if he ends up with a girlfriend it means he and Saeran can’t be… whatever they are right now. Friends with benefits? He guesses that’s probably what it would be called. They won’t be able to kiss or anything like that anymore. He’s not sure how that makes him feel.

Yoosung jumps in surprise when Nari’s voice comes from behind him.

“Who you texting?” she asks. Yoosung turns to look at her and catches her eyes flicking from his phone to his face. Well, that’s not an issue. He was just telling Saeran about the date.

“My friend,” he says vaguely. He doesn’t need to specify that it’s the boy he’s been practicing kissing with for the past few weeks. Nari stops in her tracks in front of her seat, and Yoosung frowns. “What’s wrong?”

“Yoosung,” she says with a sigh, and she remains standing next to her chair. “I’m not interested in playing games.”

Yoosung blinks at her in confusion.

“I… what?”

She gestures to his phone. “I get it if you want to talk to other people, but I’m looking for something more serious than that.”

“What do you mean? I’m not talking to other people.” Not in _that_ way, anyway. He and Saeran really are just friends. If Nari were to be interested in being his girlfriend, he would cut off anything indecent with Saeran right away.

Nari grabs her bag. “Then why is your ‘friend’ saved under that name?”

Yoosung glances back at his phone, ‘Cutie Saeran’ at the top of his screen.

“Oh!” he squeaks. “No! No… that’s…. that’s just a joke…” In all honesty, Yoosung isn’t sure why he’s arguing this. For some reason, right now he finds he’s not really bothered about this date going well. Have his feelings for her disappeared? He doesn’t feel his heart racing like he’d expect it to on a date with the prettiest girl he knows.

“I’ve seen the marks on your neck, but I thought maybe you’d stop if I asked you out. It’s whatever, Yoosung. No hard feelings. I just misread the situation.” She turns around and heads straight out the door before Yoosung even has a chance to reply. He stares after her in bewilderment. She thinks he’s playing around with multiple people? Like, sure, he was doing stuff with Saeran, but that was all practice for… for dates. For getting the girlfriend he’s always wanted. Is he supposed to follow after her? Honestly, he’s not sure he really wants to. He could explain himself, and say that he _does_ intend to stop, but… then that might lead to a lot of awkward explanations about exactly what his arrangement with Saeran is.

He looks back at his phone. Saeran still hasn’t responded, so he stares at the screen until he does.

 

**To: Yoosung**

**(17:20)** cool

**(17:20)** good luck

**(17:20)** I’ve got to go

 

**To: Cutie Saeran**

**(17:21)** Actually nvm

**(17:21)** Messed it up already lol

 

**To: Yoosung**

**(17:23)**?

**(17:23)** Is that a record?

 

Yoosung leans forward on the table, suddenly wishing Saeran were here. He’s not too upset over this, but he could use some kind of comfort right now. He just totally blew it with the girl he has (had?) a crush on.

 

**To: Cutie Saeran**

**(17:23)** lol maybe

**(17:24)** She saw what you’re called in my phone

**(17:24)** And mentioned the marks on my neck.

 

He hesitates for a moment.

 

**(17:24)** I guess it’s okay though. I wasn’t that into her.

 

Saeran’s responding faster again now.

 

**To: Yoosung**

**(17:24)** Told you not to call me that.

**(17:24)** not really sorry about the marks though

**(17:25)** you gonna be okay?

 

Yoosung bites his lip. He could play this up. He could use it as an excuse to see Saeran. People seek comfort from friends when dates go badly, and that’s all this would be. It would be nice to hang out with him again.

 

**To: Cutie Saeran**

**(17:26)** I’m not changing it

**(17:26)** Can I see you?

 

**To: Yoosung**

**(17:27)** sure

**(17:27)** bring Doctor What over

**(17:28)** we can watch it and eat ice cream :)

 

Yoosung feels his heart skip. A smiley face? Why does that make him feel so happy? Maybe because it shows Saeran really does care about him, and doesn’t want him feeling sad. He _is_ kinda bummed about the date, but if it means he gets to see Saeran…

 

**To: Cutie Saeran**

**(17:29)** Ok

**(17:29)** I’ll be there in maybe 20 minutes.

 

* * *

 

It’s not long before Yoosung’s climbing off the bus outside the bunker. He’s excited to see Saeran again, even though it hasn’t actually been that long. It feels like it’s been ages. He pulls out his phone and sends him a quick text to let him know he’s here. It’s not long before the door is pulled open.

“Hey,” Saeran greets him, and he’s… he’s _smiling_. It’s only small, but it’s definitely a smile. It makes Yoosung’s heart flutter.

“Hey. How are you?”

“I’m good. Can talk without my tongue aching again, so that’s nice.” He steps back and Yoosung heads inside. Saeran shuts the door behind him.

“Good! I’m glad. What did Saeyoung think?”

“He was more impressed that I talked you into getting your lip pierced,” Saeran says, rolling his eyes and gestures towards the sofa. “You can go set up. I’ll grab us ice cream.”

Yoosung nods and heads over, putting in the disk for Doctor What. He and Saeran watched some last time, but he doesn’t remember how far through they got. He’s been… distracted since then.

Eventually, Saeran comes back and hands Yoosung a bowl of ice cream, and when Yoosung looks up he sees that he’s smiling at him again. Yoosung likes it a lot.

“I don’t remember how far we watched,” he admits.

“I remember something about werewolves,” Saeran says after a moment in thought. “The next episode is when I started picking up the glass-” He abruptly cuts himself off. Yoosung swallows and nods, skipping forwards to that episode. He sighs and leans back on the sofa.

Before the date today, he got the nervous butterflies he always gets. But then he just… as soon as he saw her, he wasn’t nervous at all. It was like he didn’t really care. He just wanted it to be over.

It still sucks that she left like that. What must she think of him now?

The show keeps running, but Yoosung isn’t really paying attention. He plays with the ice cream in his bowl for a little while, not eating any just yet. He’s just trying to figure out when he stopped caring about the date. A few weeks ago he would have been over the moon at the thought of going on a date with Nari, but… he spent the whole time with an odd feeling in his stomach.

When he eventually does put some ice cream in his mouth, he makes a small noise of surprise. Strawberry? He’d told Saeran that was his favourite, hadn’t he? He glances over at Saeran’s bowl and sees that he has chocolate. Huh… he must have remembered.

“Thanks for the ice cream,” Yoosung says, smiling at him, and suddenly his brain flashes back to exactly what had happened the last time they’d had ice cream. His face flushes a little, and he tries to push the thought from his head.

“Hmm?” Saeran looks over at him, and Yoosung catches a smirk on his face as he looks at Yoosung’s warm cheeks. God. He must know what he’s thinking about. “You’re welcome.”

Yoosung quickly flicks his eyes back to the screen.

Despite the noise from the episode in the background, the silence between them feels incredibly heavy and Yoosung can’t figure out why. He feels like maybe he should say something, but he doesn’t know what. He just keeps eating the ice cream and thinking about why he apparently suddenly doesn’t have feelings for Nari anymore. She’s funny, she’s pretty, she’s kind, and she was clearly interested in Yoosung in the way he’s been wanting a girl to be interested in him for years. So why?

Why had he spent the entire date wanting to text Saeran instead?


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of backtracking to get Saeran’s reaction to Yoosung’s date, and then picking up where the last one left off.

**Saeran**

The drag of metal across his teeth is pleasing to Saeran, a sensation he’s very well aware that he’s _not_ supposed to indulge in yet here he is, the ball of his tongue ring poking out between his lips as he plays with it. Yeah, sure, it’s damaging but to be quite honest the state of his teeth are hardly stellar in the first place despite how much his care of them improved over the past years.

Plenty of years of neglect as a child can do that. Hell, he wasn’t aware it was a thing he needed to be doing until Rika took him in and taught him. Too bad the damage was already done.

But this… this is fun. Almost distracting enough that he considers the fact it might be able to replace a few of his more obvious nervous tics. Maybe he won’t feel the need to tug on his hair or play with his shirt anymore. At least this one won’t be out in the open for everyone to see, even if it does ruin his teeth more, right?

Eh. Who needs teeth anyway.

_Ping!_

Startled out of his thoughts, Saeran rolls over on the bed, reaching to grab his phone from where it sits on the bedside table. The display is lit up with multiple texts from Yoosung, undoubtedly excited about something that he feels the need to share. The corner of his lips curl up on their own as Saeran quickly unlocks the phone, feeling honored that Yoosung chooses to tell _him_ all of the exciting things that happen to him. It’s nice. And maybe he’s fallen into the trap of friendship, but that’s okay. At this point Saeran is fine with it.

If being friends with someone means being treated the way Yoosung treats him, then it’s past time for Saeran to re-evaluate how he feels about it.

They exchange a few texts, Saeran rolling over on his back with that barely-there smile still present as they talk about how receptive people have been of Yoosung’s new piercing. It’s hardly a surprise to him that he’s been receiving compliments; Yoosung looks damn hot with a lip piercing. It’s about time the cutie gets the kudos he deserves for simply existing. Maybe it’ll help boost his incredibly low self-esteem.

 **To: Saeran**  
 **(17:11)** This girl in my bio class said she liked it.  
 **(17:12)** She asked me out lol

The unexpected surge of jealousy that crashes through Saeran as he reads the last text is so strong that it knocks the breath right out of him. Both surprised and baffled, he stares at the screen, unsure why he feels this way. It’s not really a surprise that someone would finally take notice and ask him out. Plus, it’s a good thing… yeah? Yoosung _wants_ to get asked out and go on dates, to find himself the girlfriend he’s dreamed of for so long. As a friend, Saeran should be happy that it’s finally happening and yet… there’s dread pooling in the pit of his stomach. It’s heavy, enough to make him feel like he’s sinking through the bed and into the ground.

Yeah. He’s definitely _not_ thrilled by this.

Still, he forces himself to release the breath he’s been holding, stretching his fingers before responding. Just because Yoosung was asked out on a date doesn’t mean he accepted.

Except he did, and he’s out on that date _right now._

Saeran’s heart lurches painfully and grabs his chest as confusion rolls through him, the fabric of his shirt bunching up between his fingers. What the _fuck_ is going on? Why is he reacting like this? Why did it feel like someone took an icicle and shoved it through his heart when he read that? God. He’s not sure if he can keep texting Yoosung when he’s like this, when knowing he’s with _her_ is causing him literal pain.

What are they doing? Just having coffee? Is Yoosung going to hold her hand and walk her home, maybe even kiss her goodbye? **_No_**. The thought of anyone else daring to kiss _his_ puppy makes anger swell within him and Saeran has to fight to control the urge to fling his phone against the wall and watch it shatter into a million tiny pieces. That won’t help the situation. It’ll just make it so he can’t talk to Yoosung and find out what happens, find out if he’s… if they’re done, if that’s it, if he’s being replaced and forgotten again.

Dropping the phone on the bed, he weaves his hands through his hair and yanks as hard as he can, jaw clenching as pain courses through him and causes tears to crop up in his eyes. God. God. What does he do? Can he do anything? Panic is threatening to take over, to reduce him to a man-sized child that rolls into a ball and hides in his closet. He can’t let that happen, not right now. He fights it, tries to use the breathing exercises his therapist taught him. Closes his eyes and thinks of something else, like what he’d like to do later today, maybe even with Yoosung. Focus on the future, not the present, get past this anxiety.

It takes a few minutes for him to calm down enough to even remotely consider replying. Staring warily at his phone, he drops his hands to his thighs and drags his nails across the denim, trying to puzzle out what to say. The obvious answer would be to tell Yoosung good luck and that he’s happy for him, but that would be a lie. Saeran doesn’t want to lie, not ever, and _especially_ not to Yoosung. So then what? He can’t exactly say “hey dude I hope your date flops” because what kind of person would that make him? Honest, sure, but not a good friend and if there’s one thing he’s really striving to be right now, it’s a good friend to Yoosung.

In the end, he decides it’s easier to just cop out of it all and avoid expressing any opinion.

 **To: Pupsung**  
 **(17:20)** cool  
 **(17:20)** good luck  
 **(17:20)** I’ve got to go

Then he tosses the phone up toward the head of the bed and stands, walking over to the wall bearing the cloud-shaped sketches that he’s considering painting to help him when he needs something to look at. He presses his forehead against the cool surface, trying to fight back tears. Why does this bother him so much?

_Ping. Ping._

Two more texts in quick succession. Saeran almost doesn’t look, afraid of what the responses might be. But in the end his curiosity wins out and he pushes himself up, shuffling back to the bed with a defeated sigh.

This time, however, he’s happy with the content of the messages. Messed up the date, huh. Anger dissipating, he pokes a little bit of fun at Yoosung, pleased when he asks to come over.

Maybe the day isn’t a total loss, after all.

-oOo-

The silence that falls between them as they watch Doctor What is heavy, filled with some sort of emotion Saeran can’t place. It feels _wrong,_ like maybe someone dropped a pile of dog shit on Yoosung’s lap and walked away with no explanation. Then again… maybe that’s sort of what happened. Metaphorically.

How can he solve this? It’s awkward and uncomfortable, all the things he’d come to appreciate didn’t stand between him and Yoosung anymore. Should he tease him somehow? Or… would that make things worse? Devoid of any other ideas and on the verge of panic again, Saeran reaches over and dips his spoon into the pink ice cream in Yoosung’s bowl, helping himself to a bite. When Yoosung gasps and looks at him in surprise, he flashes him a crooked grin. “Thanks, cutie.”

“Hey! Now my ice cream has your spit all over it from the spoon,” Yoosung complains with a pout.

“Pretty sure your ice cream will survive,” Saeran retorts, head cocked to the side in amusement. “And,” he begins, pausing to glance in the direction of Saeyoung’s workroom, “I think you’ll live too since you’ve already had my spit elsewhere.”

Bingo. Yoosung’s face immediately turns scarlet as he starts to whine. “Saeran…”

A laugh breaks free from Saeran and he leans over, nudging Yoosung with his shoulder playfully. “God, I don’t know how anyone could walk away from you. You’re too fucking cute.”

A small smile plays over Yoosung’s lips and he shrugs. “Her loss.”

“For sure,” Saeran agrees with a chuckle, taking a bite of his ice cream. What was her name? Nari, maybe? She had no idea what she was walking away from just because of a few hickeys. That’s okay. Means he can have more fun, yeah? “Her loss in more ways than one.”

“Huh?” Yoosung looks confused when Saeran flicks his gaze to him, brows drawn. “What other ways?”

There’s the self-confidence issue again. It’s true Saeran has no real room to talk, but how is it that someone as amazing as Yoosung is so blind to his good traits? “Well, you’re a great kisser, body is hot as fuck, eager to please which is fun…” He doesn’t notice the way his voice softens when he continues speaking nor the way the normally tense muscles in his face relax a little, lips quirking up minutely. “You’re also kind, patient, smart, considerate, the most amazing man-“ No, wait, that’s not right. There’s no reason to separate by gender here. “No, _person_ \- I’ve ever met. Any girl would be lucky to have you as her boyfriend.” For some reason, it doesn’t feel quite so foreign to him to be complimentary to Yoosung anymore. Nonetheless, heat rushes to his cheeks in embarrassment and he drops his eyes to his ice cream, quickly shoveling another bite in his mouth to keep from making himself look even more stupid. _Luckier than they could possibly know…_

A moment of stunned silence falls before Yoosung responds, his voice catching as he speaks. “I… you really… you really think all that?”

Refusing to look up, Saeran grunts in response. More ice cream to give him time to gather his thoughts and attempt to understand how words keep slipping out from him that he doesn’t mean to say around this kid. His presence seems to have a laxative effect on the barrier between his mind and mouth, making everything flow easier even when Saeran doesn’t want it to. Shaking his head so that his hair falls forward further to hide his reddened face, he keeps his eyes trained forward. “Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

“She won’t get to see my six-pack, either.”

The smile is audible in Yoosung’s voice but the content is what gets Saeran’s attention, head snapping up to look at him in surprise. Is this… a joke? Is he trying to lighten the mood somehow? “Your what now?” he asks slowly, searching his face for a hint of what’s going on.

Unfazed, Yoosung grins at him. “My six-pack! You know. You’ve seen it!”

Oh, god. He’s serious. Saeran screams internally, not wanting to break the news to him. Stalling a moment by shoving some of his hair back, Saeran bites the inside of his cheek as he stares at him in disbelief. “Uh. You don’t have a six pack, Yoosung.”

The smile falls from his face and Saeran can feel his heart crashing to the floor with it. “What!? Yes I do!”

Breathing out, he tries to focus on the more amusing side of this. Has Yoosung ever seen a six-pack up close if he thinks he has one? “Show me, then,” he challenges, gesturing toward his stomach. “I don’t remember. Refresh my memory.”

Leaning forward, Yoosung sets down his bowl on the table before sitting back and lifting up his shirt. The twitch in the skin tells Saeran he’s tensing his muscles, but still… nothing. “Look!”

It is a good excuse to move closer, though. Scooting over, he bends down so that his face is level with the area in question, the hint of a smile on his face. “Hmm. I see a cute belly,” he says, dropping a kiss on the soft skin there and reveling in the shiver he sees pass, “but not a six-pack in sight.”

“No! There is, look,” Yoosung insists, poking at his stomach.

“Puppy, I’m about as close to your skin as I can get and I don’t see any signs of a six-pack.”

“...whatever.” Pulling his shirt back down, Yoosung grumbles in dissatisfaction. “It’s there.”

With a chuckle, Saeran straightens to rest his shoulder against the sofa. “Don’t be mad at me just because I can’t see it,” he teases, tweaking Yoosung’s nose playfully. “I believe you that you have rock hard abs underneath.”

“I do! I do a lot of running, so I have to stay in shape.” Another poke to the stomach, Yoosung still peering down with his lips pursed to the side. “If you poke it, it feels hard.”

“Yeah? You’re a runner? I didn’t know that.” Saeran pokes as indicated, pleasantly surprised to find that Yoosung is correct. There’s only a small layer between the skin and the firmness of his abs; it’s not hard to believe there may have been a visible six-pack at one point in time.

“Yeah, I am! I’m pretty good at it. Do you believe me now?”

Saeran’s about to reply that running alone isn’t enough to form a six-pack when another, all too familiar hand appears out of nowhere, followed by an arm and a grinning face. Oh, great, now _he’s_ here...

Saeyoung pokes at Yoosung’s stomach, laughing when he jumps in surprise before dancing around the sofa to stand in front of them. “Does cutie Yoosung have a six-pack? Let me see~” Eyes flick between the two of them, a strange emotion passing over his face so quickly that Saeran doesn’t have the time to identify it before that stupid smile is present again. “And is that why you’re practically sitting on each other’s laps?”

The level of amusement Saeran feels at both his brother’s sudden presence as well as his joke is bottomed out, approaching the negatives, even. Leveling a glare at him that would kill if possible, he grudgingly scoots over to put an acceptable amount of space between them. “Fuck off,” he mumbles, crossing his arms grumpily. Why does he always have to show up and ruin everything?

“I do have one!” Out of the corner of his eye, Saeran sees Yoosung fold his arms as well and pout. “But Saeran doesn’t believe me.”

“Ohoo~ Well, he’s just grumpy,” Saeyoung replies, his grin somehow managing to widen. _Maybe it will split his face and then I won’t have to deal with it anymore._ “Let me see it!” _No, you don’t deserve to see it, you fuckwad. It’s **my** belly._ Still, Saeran knows it’s likely that Yoosung won’t fight.

Sure enough, Yoosung raises his shirt to show off his ‘six-pack’ to Saeyoung. Jealousy cuts through Saeran like a knife and he looks away, huffing in frustration. The fact that he’s showing far less of his stomach doesn’t make a difference as Saeran grabs his bowl and shoves a giant spoonful of ice cream in his mouth. This is stupid. Logically he knows that the pair have been best friends for years, far before Saeran stalked into their lives to mess around with the puppy. That knowledge doesn’t do a thing to alleviate the envy building up to dangerously high levels in him, though. Why the fuck is he getting jealous all the time anyway? There’s no reason. Yoosung isn’t his, isn’t any more to him than just a friend with benefits. If Saeyoung were to swoop in and dazzle him away, there’d be nothing he could do. Nor should he want to do anything. Just friends.

Just. Friends.

Why does that thought come with a prickle of pain?

“Hmmmm.” Saeran flicks his eyes to the side to watch his brother lean down and pretend to adjust his glasses to look closer at the bared skin. “My conclusion on this important matter is…” A pause, no doubt for added dramatic effect, causing Saeran to roll his eyes. “My twin knows best~” Laughing obnoxiously, Saeyoung stands up again, lifting up his own shirt. “This is what a true six-pack looks like.” Saeran doesn’t even bother to look; he’s very well aware that Saeyoung had been forced to stay in shape by the agency. Still, does he need to show off like that?

Yoosung grabs a cushion from between them and smacks Saeyoung’s stomach with it, his own shirt falling to cover him up again. “That’s a lie! I do have one!”

Raising his eyebrows in amusement, Saeran turns his head a little more, watching as his brother laughs gleefully and grabs the cushion. “You’re too cute for a six-pack,” he says, poking Yoosung’s nose.

Storm clouds seem to be gathering over Yoosung’s head and Saeran shifts defensively, ready to intervene if Saeyoung tries to go too far. Letting go of the cushion, Yoosung huffs sharply. “Go away. No one asked you.”

“Well, aren’t you a pair of grumpy boys. No fun at all.”

Saeran catches then cushion as it’s tossed into his lap, feeling exasperated at the way his brother pouts at them. Has it ever occurred to him that maybe, just _maybe_ he’s being annoying?

“Anyway. I’m headed out for a while. Do either of you want anything?”

“I want you to _leave,”_ Saeran replies, dropping the cushion back in its place.

Yoosung shakes his head, slumping down a little further into the sofa. “No, thanks. I’m fine.”

Saeyoung directs another strange look between the two of them, then shrugs. “I’ll see my two favorite boys later then~” he sings, skipping out of the room.

The clouds are still very present when Saeran looks over at Yoosung. Frowning, he taps his fingers on his leg a moment before setting his bowl back down. “Ignore him, he’s a fucking show off. Didn’t need to brag. Hope he didn’t make you feel too bad?”

The way Yoosung slowly shakes his head, keeping his eyes trained on his lap only ramps up Saeran’s concern. “It’s fine.”

That’s obviously not true. The hurt present in those two softly spoken words makes Saeran’s heart ache. Scooting over so that their thighs touch, he gingerly places a finger under Yoosung’s chin, tipping his head up so he can see his face. What he sees makes him want to chase after his twin and punch him for being so stupid. There’s not a trace of the usual joy anywhere, not even in the gorgeous purple of his eyes. Instead, there’s defeat and self-hatred, a sadness Saeran hates seeing on him.

“Hey,” he says softly. “You don’t need a six-pack to be hot, yeah? That might make you a bit _too_ hot, actually.” The last sentence has a teasing undertone but is ultimately true; Yoosung with a six-pack would be mind-blowing.

A slow blink as Yoosung processes what he says, Saeran patiently waiting with the smallest of smiles dancing across his lips. Maybe he got through? He really doesn’t want to see his friend break down just because of some stupid body image that isn’t all that important.

“I just don’t like how I look!” Yoosung suddenly blurts out, eyes widening in panic as soon as the words leave his mouth. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.” He quickly looks away again.

Full of a patience he wasn’t aware he possessed, Saeran gently tilts Yoosung’s head until he can see his eyes again. “What don’t you like?”

The muscles of Yoosung’s jaw work as he grits his teeth, obviously regretting having said anything. “Just… I don’t know. My… my body.”

Saeran’s eyes narrow a moment as his gaze flits between Yoosung’s own. Then, heaving a sigh, he drops his hand and shakes his head sadly. “You know, Yoosung,” he begins, his voice barely above a whisper but full of an emotion he’s never felt before. “I could probably tell you at least one thing you I like about every part of you.”

A pregnant pause occurs before Saeran can hear the soft intake of breath. “You don’t have to do that,” Yoosung whispers, voice cracking a little.

It’s true. He _doesn’t_ have to do this. No one is forcing him and hell, he could go as far as standing up and walking away if he chose. But that’s not what he wants right now. He wants to help Yoosung, to make him see that he really is amazing, that his body is much more awesome than he thinks. To do that, he feels like he needs to do this.

It’s petrifying.

Exhaling a shuddering breath, Saeran slides off the couch onto the floor, kneeling before Yoosung. His stomach is doing a strange fluttery thing while his heart performs some sort of acrobatics and neither help him as he tries to stay calm. This is okay. This is fine. This is just him being a good friend. It’s surely not as big of a deal as his body and mind want to make it.

Yoosung’s socks are soft under his palms when he rests his hands on his feet, giving a soft laugh at the puppies decorating them. Cute. Taking a breath, he forces himself to look up into the deep pools of Yoosung’s eyes. "These allow you to walk, to get off the bus and come watch stupid tv with me, or, or go to a store to get ice cream with me." The only reaction is the slight widening of eyes, so he moves on, each hand over top of a knee. "These apparently belong to a runner, but I like them because they also help you get to places. And they fit around my waist well."

This time he’s rewarded with a squeak and the sight of flesh turning a soft red before hands block his view. _Too cute._ He smiles, sliding his palms up denim until he finds the crests of Yoosung’s hips, grasping them firmly. “These are easy for me to grab, whether to pull you closer or hold you down while I make you feel good." His voice deepens as he remembers the feel of the skin under his hand while he-

Clearing his throat, Saeran shakes his head to derail that particular train of thought. Not helpful. Need something non-sexual, too. "They also let you sit next to me, here or on the bus.” Quickly moving on, Saeran slips both hands under Yoosung’s shirt to lift it, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the revealed strip of skin. Goosebumps appear as a shiver makes it way through Yoosung’s body. “The source of the issues tonight is actually one of my favorite parts of your body. It allows you to eat ice cream with me and keeps you alive by digesting your food. Also, it really is a cute belly," he says with a teasing grin before going serious again. "It doesn't need a visible six pack for me to appreciate it."

There’s a sliver of an eye watching between barely parted fingers. Saeran winks at it, only one hand moving up further, stopping over a rapidly beating heart. It mirrors his own, synced together in a rhythm that belongs to only them. “Your heart. Literally it also keeps you alive and that's great but your figurative heart is so big I never could've anticipated it. So full of kindness and caring and for some reason you d-decided to show it to someone like m-me?" No, no, no tearing up. Absolutely not. He swallows past the sudden lump in his throat, determined to hold it in.

“You deserve it.”

Saeran jumps at the barely audible voice, surprised that Yoosung finally spoke. The emotion surging within him raises even more, and he bites his lip as he tries to get it under control. Shaking his head, he pulls his hands out of the shirt and takes Yoosung’s wrists, gently pulling them away from his face. “These hands will save lives one day," he says, staring at them in wonder. "They already have." The last part is exhaled on a soft breath, and Saeran averts his eyes for a moment before coughing and moving on without giving Yoosung a chance to respond. His hands land on Yoosung's upper arms, squeezing. "These give really good hugs."

Yoosung’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows and Saeran grins crookedly, watching it before before tapping his neck. “I don’t think I need to explain why I like this part of you. I’m sure you can work that out yourself.”

The heat from Yoosung’s red cheeks feels good on Saeran’s palms as he rests them there, gazing at him with an expression he’s unfamiliar with. He can recognize that his face is doing a thing he’s never done before, but can’t identify what it is. Warmth blooms in in his chest and moves up his own face, creeping up all the way to the tips of his ears as he continues to look at him, smiling. Part of him knows this is crossing some sort of line. That friends likely don’t say this kind of stuff to each other but it’s all true and dammit, Yoosung deserves to know how amazing he is, how great he truly is with or without a stupid six-pack and if that means Saeran has to deal with unexpected consequences later, so be it. He’s already convinced he’ll have to answer to himself when he’s removed from the situation and given a chance to analyze what all this means.

“You’re really cute when you blush. You shouldn’t hide that,” he murmurs, pressing his hands into Yoosung’s cheeks a little more. “Up here we have your eyes, so big and round and expressive, it’s like looking into your heart. Or maybe like you hold a galaxy in them, so kind and wise… and your mouth that can be witty or nice or silly or sinful…”

“Saeran…” There’s a look of dawning realization on Yoosung’s face mixed with something else, something Saeran’s never seen directed at him before. His heart jumps in excitement while his stomach drops in fear. What… what does that look _mean?_

“You have a cute nose, too,” he hurries on, keeping his voice even. No use in dwelling on things he doesn’t understand. “And your hair is nice. It looks good on you and is fun to pull. But up here lies that big brain of yours, the one that keeps you alive but it also makes you you and god, you’re so smart, Yoosung. Way smarter than you give yourself credit for.”

Brushing his lips across Yoosung’s forehead as though to sign everything he just said, Saeran smiles uncertainly and then drops back to sit on the heels of his feet. Yoosung’s gaze is too much now, it burns through him, stirring up a multitude of feelings he doesn't know what to do with, so he looks down at his lap. Confusion rises above all, rolling through him like the fog in the prairie. “You should like your body because it makes you who you are and it’s amazing,” he finishes, digging his nails under each other to feel the slight pain in hopes to help his mind clear. “Whoever that girl was earlier didn’t know what she’s missing out on, because I’m serious when I say any girl would be lucky to date you. You’re the only good person I’ve ever met.”

Silence falls between them, the air heavy and charged with an electricity unfamiliar to him. He waits, waits for some sort of response; thankfulness, hope, anger, _anything_ other than this cursed quiet. Still, Yoosung doesn’t say anything. Saeran can’t bring himself to look up to see the expression on his face, to try to determine how he feels right now because the reality of everything he said is sinking in and he’s… god. Not ashamed, really, because it’s true, but definitely embarrassed. Scared. What if this is it? What he finally went too far and fucked things up? Granted, it was only a matter of time but he’s not ready yet. Not ready to say goodbye to his one friend.

Gulping nervously, he decides to be the first to speak. “Sorry if that was too much.”

“No,” comes the whisper. Yoosung clears his throat before continuing quietly. “No, it wasn’t. Thank you s-so much, Saeran. I… it really…” He tapers off, voice trembling slightly.

Glancing up, Saeran’s abashed to find the sight of tears welling up in Yoosung’s eyes. “Don’t cry!” Fuck, where did he go wrong? He really did fuck this up, didn’t he? Without really thinking about it, he sets his hands on Yoosung’s thighs and looks at him in concern. “I… if I said something wrong, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you…”

“No! I’m not!” The hand that was pressed to Yoosung’s mouth jerks up to wipe away the tears. “I’m n-not upset, I promise. You said nothing wrong. I’m j-just… I… I never thought anyone would ever think all that about m-me.”

Saeran frowns in confusion. Aren’t tears bad? But these seem… different. If Yoosung’s not upset, why is he crying? “Really? I’m, ah, pretty sure that idiot shares a lot of my opinions on you.” _Too many._ “And I bet there’s more people you don’t know about. There’s no way there isn’t.”

Finishing wiping his tears, Yoosung shakes his head slowly. “But… but _you_ think all that, and _you’re_ the one who told me.” Another tear slips out and he wipes it away, smiling down at Saeran. “Who could’ve guessed Saeran Choi has such a soft side?”

Eyes widening a moment, Saeran drops his eyes as his cheeks flush again, biting back a smile of his own. “Shh. Don’t tell anyone. I have an image as a grumpy jerk to maintain.” Soft… that’s something he never thought he’d be called. Strangely, he’s not really annoyed by it when it’s Yoosung saying it.

Laughing softly, Yoosung presses a finger to his lips. “Of course. Your secret’s safe with me.”

Releasing a breath of relief, Saeran runs a hand through his hair and grins at him. “Good. Otherwise I’d have to punish you.”

“I… punish me?”

Saeran crawls back up onto the sofa, sparing a glance at his ice cream. Shit, it’s almost completely melted by now. Oh well. “Think about it, puppy.” Reaching for the bowl, he considers it moment before lifting it up to drink from it. Still delicious.

The couch shifts a little under him and when he flicks his eyes up, Yoosung’s facing him. “How would you punish me?”

Raising an eyebrow, Saeran lowers the bowl and licks his upper lip clean. “How? Hmm.” Yoosung’s tongue darts out to wet his lips, and Saeran smirks when those eyes drop to his own for a split second. “Well, I could tease you, work you up to the point where you’re ready to cum and then keep you there, on the edge, until you aren’t sure you can take it anymore.” Heat rushes through him at the suggestion but he plays it cool, winking and tipping the bowl to his mouth again.

“But… then what if I’m a good boy?”

The ice cream is so delicious in it’s sweet, chocolate flavor and Saeran takes his time finishing the melted portion, humming happily. Once there’s just a small bit of unmelted left, he puts the bowl back down and leans close to Yoosung, eyes molten. “Then I’ll give you whatever you want.”

Yoosung’s breath hitches, eyes going wide. “How are you always so…?”

“Always so…?” Running his tongue along his lips slowly, using the excuse to cleaning off ice cream to his full advantage, Saeran feels satisfaction as Yoosung’s eyes travel the same path. Yep, he’s still his puppy.

“So fucking hot,” Yoosung finishes, face flaming red once again.

Shrugging, Saeran traces the outline of Yoosung’s parted lips with his thumb. “Call it a talent,” he whispers, swaying forward before realizing what he’s about to do. Sighing in resignation, he forces himself back and scoots away. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Yoosung. I told myself I’d behave today. I don’t want to make things worse.” Yeah, genius idea; hit on him after he’s had a date flop. What a great way to be a good friend.

“It’s okay. You’re… you’re making things better, actually.” The answer is quiet but sure. “You always do. I like… I like spending time with you. You made me forget all about the date.”

The words float around in his brain for a moment before he finally starts to comprehend them, his mouth curving into a wide smile before he can stop it. “Oh. I’m glad. You don’t deserve to feel down.” Yoosung beams back at him and god, he’s so beautiful like this. Happiness begins to rise within him as he reaches out to cup Yoosung’s cheek, feeling encased in his light. “I just want you to be happy.”

“I want to make you happy, too,” Yoosung replies, pressing his cheek into Saean’s hand.

“You do.” Saeran had been uncertain that he could be happy - actually, truly happy - before Yoosung came into his life shining a light so bright it nearly blinded him. Rika had always spoken about V being a sun to her and feeling threatened when he illuminated all of her world. Yoosung’s like that too, except… except Saeran feels safe with him. Warm. “I… I’m happy when you’re around. I never understood the purpose of friends before. I think I do now.”

Something sad passes over Yoosung’s face but he nods, biting his lip. “Yeah. I’m glad I can… be your friend.”

“Me too.” Smiling, Saeran leans forward and kisses Yoosung softly. There’s a soft noise of surprise but it’s quickly reciprocated, the two of them moving to close any space left between them in tandem.

Something about this kiss seems… different. He doesn’t feel the urge to nip and bite, to be rough or punishing right now. No, it’s soft and gentle, an entirely new game. It feels like there’s something lingering behind it that they’re on the verge of discovering but he’s clueless as to what. Everything going on right now is so far out of his element, dealing with emotions beyond his typical anger, betrayal and sadness and he’s not sure that he can handle another new feeling.

But… maybe he can, if it’s with Yoosung. Yoosung gives him a sense of strength, like he can actually accomplish things. Important things like therapy or maybe friendship or giving his brother a chance. How can one puppy affect him this way? One person he’d sneered at not so long ago, who he’d considered weak and useless, now making him feel like he can be better. It’s weird.

But what does it mean?


	13. Chapter 13

**Yoosung**

 

This kiss feels different to all the others they’ve shared before. Their lips are moving together slowly, gently, almost in the same way as when they’d got their piercings, only now that isn't the reason. This feels like… more. Yoosung feels like he’s balancing on the edge of a realisation that he probably should have figured out a long time ago, but he pushes it away, back into the dark corners of his head. Right now all he wants to think about is kissing Saeran.

He’s too overwhelmed with emotion right now to think properly anyway, and he wouldn’t be able to focus enough to figure it out if he tried. Saeran had listed all those things he liked about him, and right now Yoosung feels like his heart has swollen so much it could burst. The man who told him he was always angry. That he didn’t have friends. That everyone in the world was a bad person. He _likes_ Yoosung. It’s not just for the kissing and the sexual things they do. It’s… it’s real.

Saeran pulls out of the kiss and the way he looks at Yoosung makes his heart clench and jump at the same time. His mint green eyes are so full of… something. An emotion Yoosung can’t explain but that he understands entirely. It’s soft and passionate, gentle and rough, calming and exciting. A whirlwind of conflicting emotions that Yoosung mirrors with his heart.

And that’s when it hits him.

Yoosung knows what’s going on. He knows exactly what all these feelings mean. Exactly why he keeps coming back for more.

He _does_ have feelings for Saeran.

It hits him so hard he feels his heart stutter in his chest. Everything falls together and then everything makes sense. The way he feels when he’s around others doesn’t compare to how he feels when he’s with Saeran. It doesn’t even come close.

But there’s no way he can tell him.

Saeran has said right from the start that these are nothing more than meaningless acts without emotions. Just for fun. Of course Yoosung had to go and mess that up, but it doesn’t mean he has to _tell_ Saeran. He can carry on as normal. He’s had these feelings all along, he just hadn’t realised.

And he really doesn’t want to lose him.

Yoosung leans in again and crashes their lips together to stop himself from saying anything stupid. A small noise of surprise escapes Saeran’s lips, but then he eagerly returns the kiss, hands moving down to grasp hold of his hips and tug him towards him. Yoosung shuffles closer until Saeran suddenly pulls him onto his lap, and he gasps in surprise, letting out a quiet moan. He feels Saeran shiver underneath him.

Everything’s so obvious now. All these intense, overwhelming feelings he feels when they kiss… they’re not just lust and the need to feel good. Of course that’s part of it, but Yoosung wouldn’t do this sort of thing with just anyone. God, how could he have been so stupid? He doesn’t want to think about what that could possibly mean for them as friends, so he just keeps kissing him, starting to grind their hips together.

If this is all he can get, he’s okay with that. He wants to be with Saeran in any way he can, even if it’s just giving him his body.

Saeran moans in response to the grinding, and Yoosung feels his hands slide up his shirt to scratch at the skin of his back. He rolls his hips up and licks at his lips roughly. Now it’s getting rougher in the way Yoosung’s used to, and he feels both a little upset but also excited. The softness is nice because it means he can pretend maybe Saeran feels the same, but this is good too, because it shows that Saeran wants him just as much as he wants Saeran. He whimpers at the nails scratching his back and opens his mouth into the kiss, pushing his tongue into Saeran’s. Saeran’s tongue meets his and they slide together. It’s familiar. Nothing about what they’re doing right now is new, but something still feels different.

Yoosung can feel the piercing on Saeran’s tongue, and it sends a jolt through him every time he touches it with his own tongue. Maybe… maybe if he can’t tell Saeran how he feels directly, perhaps he can try and show him. Maybe it’s not hopeless. He pulls him closer and moans quietly into his mouth. Saeran groans in response, hands sliding down to squeeze his ass before moving again to grasp hold of his thighs. Yoosung slowly rocks his hips, grinding them against Saeran’s and letting out a shuddering moan.

To his surprise, Saeran breaks the kiss. They’re both panting heavily, and Saeran moans as Yoosung grinds against him. Yoosung can feel that they’re both getting hard way faster than usual, and it sends a burst of electricity straight to his core.

“Hold on,” Saeran says roughly, and he stands from the sofa, picking up Yoosung with him and stumbling a moment before catching his footing.

“Huh?!” Yoosung squeaks in confusion. His head feels fuzzy, and he grips hold of Saeran tightly so he doesn’t fall. “What is it?”

“Remember when I said I wanted to hear you be loud one day?” Saeran growls, carrying Yoosung quickly towards his room. His hands feel like they’re burning into Yoosung’s thighs, and it’s never felt better. When they reach Saeran’s room he doesn’t close the door – probably to hear when Saeyoung comes back – and he sits on the bed with Yoosung in his lap, fingers moving to grasp the hem of Yoosung’s shirt. “I intend to hear you now.”

“Oh.” Yoosung feels heat rushing through his body, heart pounding in his chest. Saeran tugs Yoosung’s shirt hurriedly over his head.

“Today’s about you,” he breathes. “What do you want?”

Yoosung’s head is spinning with possibilities. What _does_ he want? He could ask Saeran for anything right now…

“Would you fuck me?” he blurts out before he can stop himself, and his face instantly starts burning. He feels Saeran freeze and he looks up at him in shock. Yoosung’s about to tell him to forget it when he speaks.

“I’ve never…” He pauses, and Yoosung watches as his face slowly turns red. “I’ve never fucked anyone before. That’s… what you want?”

Yoosung blinks at him in surprise.

“You’ve never…?” He pauses and gulps. “W-we don’t have to. It’s okay.”

To his surprise, Saeran responds by crashing their lips together, kissing Yoosung with so much passion he feels like he might pass out. He barely even notices when Saeran lifts him again until he feels his back pressing against the sheets as he’s laid down. After a few moments the kiss slows, and then Saeran pulls back.

“I want to. I just don’t have the stuff we need, but… Saeyoung might. Give me a minute?”

Yoosung blinks at him in surprise. Saeran wants to. They’re actually going to do this?

“Okay,” he says, nodding breathlessly. Saeran smiles at him and drags his nails across his chest before turning and leaving.

Is this wrong? Saeran said he could have whatever he wanted, but is this pushing it too far? He hadn’t realised Saeran had never done it either, and for some reason that makes it feel even more… important. He takes a deep breath and sits up, running his fingers through his hair as his stomach flips uncontrollably and his heart races faster than it ever has before. Is he _really_ about to do this? Of course, chances are Saeran won’t be able to find what they need, but if he does… God. Yoosung wants this, but it’s a big deal. A _much_ bigger deal than his first kiss. Is it wrong to do it for the first time with a friend? A friend he knows full well he has feelings for? Admittedly they’re a little more than friends, but still. They’re not in a relationship, and Saeran has no idea how Yoosung feels. Hell, Yoosung only just realised himself. Is this too fast? Is he just doing it because he wants a connection with Saeran that neither of them can ever have with anyone else? Is he hoping maybe Saeran might have feelings for him too? Yoosung knows he can’t force it, but god does he want it. He wants Saeran to care for him like he cares for Saeran. He wants to give him his everything.

Yoosung hears a shout of disgust. “That’s fucking disgusting!” He jumps in surprise, and it’s not long before Saeran comes back into the room, holding up a bottle.

“Found this.”

“Is everything okay?” he asks, and then his eyes lock on the bottle. Lube. “Oh!”

“Yeah, just… learned more about my brother than I ever wanted to fucking know,” Saeran replies with a shudder. He walks over and sets the bottle by the bed, and Yoosung doesn’t have time to be curious about what disgusted Saeran so much before he’s pulled in for another slow, passionate kiss. “Are you sure you want this?” Saeran breathes against his lips.

“Yeah. Do… do you?”

“Yeah.” Saeran sounds breathless, and he presses a hand to Yoosung’s chest to push him back so he’s lying down, hovering over him. He seems more nervous than usual, but he quickly leans down to press kisses to Yoosung’s neck. He hooks his fingers into the waistband of Yoosung’s jeans and underwear to slowly slide them down, and Yoosung lifts his body to help. He whimpers when he feels the cool air hit him. This is really happening. He’s about to have sex for the first time in his life, and it’s with his best friend’s brother. A guy. Someone he’s not even in a relationship with. He’s losing his virginity to _Saeran_.

This isn’t how he’d ever imagined it going, but he’s so glad it’s happening this way.

Saeran pulls back a moment after he discards Yoosung’s clothes on the floor, and his eyes trail over his body. He shivers.

“Fuck,” he says brokenly, eyes darkening. “You’re so hot, Yoosung.” He leans back in and starts kissing down Yoosung’s stomach, hands trailing teasing circles on his thighs. Yoosung lets out a soft moan and arches up a little. When Saeran talks and acts like this it drives him crazy with need.

“S-Saeran,” he breathes. Saeran moves lower and lower until he licks leisurely up Yoosung’s dick, and Yoosung shudders, feeling his desperation building. “Please,” he begs in a hoarse, needy voice.

“Please what, puppy?” Saeran asks, taking just the tip into his mouth and swirling his tongue around once before pulling away. Yoosung whimpers. “What do you want?”

“You,” he begs, squirming. “Please. I w-want you.”

Saeran fumbles with the zipper of his jeans and shoves them down. He’s not wearing any underwear, and Yoosung feels shock and excitement shoot through him when he sees Saeran’s dick is already hard. He grabs the bottle and squeezes some of the lube onto his fingers, looking up at Yoosung anxiously.

“Tell me if I h-hurt you,” he says quietly, taking a finger and circling Yoosung’s entrance a few times. Yoosung nods, biting at his lip to suppress his noises.

“This is g-gonna feel weird.” He’s unable to take his eyes off Saeran as he shivers under his touch.

“Hopefully it’ll feel good.” And with that, he slips a finger inside and starts moving it in and out.

“Mmf!” Yoosung bites his lip harder and grips hold of the bedsheets underneath him. It feels weird, as he’d expected, but just the knowledge that right now Saeran’s finger is literally _inside_ him sends his pulse racing like crazy. He whimpers and squirms as Saeran moves his finger around, until suddenly he hits _something_.

“Uh!” he squeaks, back arching suddenly. “W-what…?”

“There we go,” Saeran murmurs, stroking that spot a few times causing Yoosung’s whimpers and moans to get louder. “Does that feel good?”

“Y-yeah,” Yoosung stammers. He’s almost entirely forgotten about how weird it feels, allowing the pleasure to take over instead.

“I’m going to add another finger,” Saeran warns, and then Yoosung feels him carefully slipping another one in, moving them slowly.

“Oh… g-god,” he whimpers, clutching the sheets more tightly. He hadn’t really considered how invasive it would feel, but he’s genuinely surprised to realise how much he likes it. He trusts Saeran, and he seems to want to make sure this feels good for him. It’ll be both their first times, so Yoosung needs to try not to get lost in the feelings and remember to help Saeran feel good too.

Saeran continues moving his fingers inside him for a while before slipping in a third.

“I don’t know how long to do this,” he admits, looking away as though ashamed. “You’ll have to tell me when you think you’re r-ready.”

Yoosung nods breathlessly, squeezing his eyes shut. He can feel the pleasure shooting through him, and he desperately wants Saeran but… he’s big. Much bigger than three fingers, so he has to at least get used to this first. He opens his eyes and looks at Saeran, reaching out to tug at his shirt. “W-will you take it off?” he stammers. He’s not entirely sure his words are coherent. Saeran’s movements stutter for a moment, but he keeps slowly thrusting his fingers in and out.

“I… it’s not… I-I don’t look good. Not like you.”

It’s difficult to focus with Saeran’s fingers still moving, but he has to.

“Saeran,” he says softly, trying to concentrate. He props himself up a little so he can look at him properly. “You don’t have to, but I… hnng, I can’t see how you could p-possibly look bad.” How do you form a sentence again? “L-let me be the judge of that.”

Saeran slowly meets Yoosung’s eyes, and Yoosung tries to show how sincere he is about this. Saeran visibly swallows and withdraws his fingers. He slowly tugs his tank top up and over his head, dropping it on the ground and looking away. Yoosung doesn’t hesitate. He immediately sits up and takes hold of Saeran’s hips, leaning in and pressing a kiss to his chest.

“My verdict is that you’re…” He can’t say beautiful, can he? Would Saeran even accept it if he did? “Hot as fuck,” he murmurs against his skin. Saeran has some scars, and some are so deep they make Yoosung want to flinch. Not because they’re disgusting, but because he can’t possibly imagine the pain Saeran must have gone through to have so many that are so bad. But Yoosung doesn’t flinch. He just trails gentle kisses across Saeran’s chest. He’s so damn happy he gets to see him like this. That Saeran trusts him enough to show him.

He hears Saeran gasp and feels him shiver under his mouth.

“You’re so amazing,” Saeran chokes out. Yoosung pulls back enough to look up at him adoringly. In all honesty, he doesn’t feel like he’s enough for him. Saeran deserves someone who can help him no matter what. Maybe Yoosung could be that person, but he doesn’t want to get his hopes up. He’s not doing this under the pretence that it’ll make Saeran return his feelings.

“You’re pretty amazing yourself,” Yoosung whispers with a small, nervous smile.

“You think too highly of me,” Saeran says softly, brushing back some stray strands of Yoosung’s hair. Yoosung bites his lip and shivers at the gentle touch.

“Then prove me wrong,” he challenges. “You won’t be able to.”

A melancholic look crosses Saeran’s face and he partially turns away, flinching.

“That’s one challenge I’ll win every time.” His voice is thick with emotion. “There’s so much you don’t know about me, Yoosung. About who I am. About my past. Don’t… don’t put so much faith in someone you’ve only known a few months, and talked to less.”

Yoosung reaches up and tentatively cups Saeran’s face in his hands. “I’m allowed to have _some_ faith in you though, right? Your past isn’t what makes you who you are right now. I don’t know everything that happened, but… we’re here now. And we wouldn’t be if I didn’t trust you in some way.” He pauses. Has he said too much? “And I think you’re amazing.”

Saeran looks at him for a moment and then closes the distance between them again and kisses him. This kiss is also desperate, but in a different way. It’s filled with more weight, and it makes Yoosung’s heart stutter in his chest.

Again, just for a moment, Yoosung dares to hope that maybe Saeran could have feelings for him too.

He kisses him back just as desperately, trying to show he means everything he said. Saeran slowly pushes Yoosung down on his back, not breaking the kiss as he slips three fingers back inside him. Yoosung slides his arms up around Saeran’s shoulders and arches his back, letting out a soft moan as the fingers start moving. It feels less weird this time. More familiar.

“I think I’m ready,” he breathes against Saeran’s lips, and Saeran nods slowly as he pulls his fingers out once more. He sits back on his heels and reaches for the lube again. Yoosung watches as he squeezes some out into his palm and spreads it over his dick with a shudder. He takes hold of Yoosung’s legs and sets them against his shoulders as he lines himself up, one hand squeezing Yoosung’s thigh gently.

“Ready?” he asks. Is he giving Yoosung the chance to back out? Because he’s not going to. His breathing is getting quicker and his stomach is twisting. They’re actually doing this. This is _actually_ happening. He nods.

“Yeah.” His voice is a little shaky, but he means it. He wants this so badly.

Saeran nods and bites his lip as he slowly pushes in.

“F-fuck, Yoosung,” he gasps.

God, it hurts. Yoosung screws his face up. He thought he was ready but maybe he should have waited a little longer for the fingers to stretch him more. But… hearing Saeran say his name like that helps a little. The unfamiliar stretch just feels strange.

“W-wait,” he gasps. “Just… let me g-get used to it.”

Saeran stops immediately, and Yoosung can hear him panting.

“Y-yeah,” he breathes. The hand on his thigh comes up to gently caress his face, and when Yoosung opens his eyes he sees Saeran smiling at him shakily. “Take all the time you n-need.”

Yoosung tries to breathe deeply and get used to it. Maybe moving would be better, actually.

“Okay,” he whispers after a few moments. “You c-can keep going.”

Saeran keeps his hand on Yoosung’s face as he starts pushing in again until he’s fully inside, waiting and panting and rubbing his thumb over Yoosung’s cheek. It’s all so gentle and loving, and these feelings that Yoosung’s almost overflowing with make him think that maybe they’re further along than he first thought. Maybe this isn’t just a crush. But he can’t think about that now. He wants to get lost in the moment.

“G-go slowly,” Yoosung says quietly after a few moments. He feels like he’s ready. Saeran pulls about halfway out before slowly thrusting back in and moaning.

“God, puppy, you feel so good,” he groans as he repeats the movements and falls into a steady rhythm. Yoosung whimpers softly at the name. It feels as though Saeran’s using it almost affectionately now. Yoosung liked it before, but now it’s even better.

The more Saeran moves, the easier it gets. It still hurts, but the pain gradually turns into something good. Something that makes Yoosung start moaning a little louder.

“That’s it, let me h-hear you,” Saeran croons, continuing the slow thrusts. He pulls out a little further each time and gets a little faster, and Yoosung’s noises start getting louder. He keeps biting his lip to stop them, but then he remembers no one else is here to hear them, so he lets them out.

Suddenly, Saeran finds that spot inside him again – the one he hit earlier – and Yoosung cries out, arms tightening around him.

“Saeran,” he moans, and Saeran answers with a moan of his own.

“God, you’re such a good b-boy, Yoosung,” Saeran praises, and Yoosung feels his hand slowly trailing from his hip to his bouncing cock. “Y-you’re doing so good, f-fuck, I…” Saeran snaps his hips hard once and places a kiss on Yoosung’s thigh. Yoosung cries out again. God, this feels so good. He feels like his brain might explode from the pleasure shooting through his body.

“H-harder,” he begs, and he doesn’t need to ask twice. Saeran immediately starts picking up speed, slamming his hips into Yoosung harder as he groans and pants against his skin. Yoosung feels his hand wrap around his dick and he sinks his teeth into his thigh. Yoosung’s becoming a writhing, moaning mess beneath him, and oh god he’s not going to last much longer. He can feel it starting to build up inside him, ready to crash over him.

“Saeran, I’m g-gonna…” he pants desperately between moans.

“M-me too,” Saeran gasps against his leg. “I want to hear you when you cum, puppy. To hear how loud you are when I’m fucking you senseless.” As a follow-up to his words, he snaps his hips as hard as he can, pumping his hand on Yoosung’s cock and biting down on his thigh, hard.

Yoosung all but yells as it finally hits him, his back arching, his muscles tensing and his entire body shaking.

“S-Saeran!” he cries out as the pleasure shoots through him and he cums harder than he ever has before. He can see stars dancing in his vision as wave after wave rolls through him and Saeran works him through his orgasm.

“Oh fuck, Y-Yoosung,” Saeran moans loudly, and his hips stutter. Yoosung’s still moaning and whimpering when he feels Saeran cum inside him, and just watching his face as he does hits him like another hot wave of pleasure. God, he looks so fucking good like this. Yoosung’s vision is a little blurry and his body is shaking with the aftershocks of his orgasm, but hell, he’s going to appreciate the sight of Saeran like this while he can.

Saeran’s thrusts slow and both their bodies are shaking from the intensity of their orgasms. Saeran gently pulls out and lowers Yoosung’s aching legs.

“God…” he breathes, and he crawls up to press their lips together in an incredibly sloppy and uncoordinated kiss. Yoosung kisses back desperately, trying to cling to this feeling for as long as he can. He’d always figured sex would feel good, but this… god. This had such an intensity to it that he knows he could never forget this if he tried.

And something in the back of his head tells him that what Saeran had done wasn’t exactly ‘fucking him senseless’ like he’d said. But Yoosung needs to stop that train of thought right there.

Otherwise he might end up tricking himself into thinking that instead of a meaningless fuck, they’d actually made love.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was fun to write!! The next chapter will be another Yoosung chapter (it was originally going to be one big chapter but I thought it seemed better to end it here!)  
> (Also it's my birthday today and I spent it writing Yooran smut. The best way to greet 20.)


	14. Chapter 14

Yoosung gets so lost in the kiss that he almost jumps out his skin when he hears Seven’s voice from outside the room.

“Saeran! Yoosung! I’m home~”

“Shit!” Saeran hisses, rolling off Yoosung and the bed and rushing to the door, shutting it as quickly and quietly as possible. Yoosung sits up, panic racing through him as he scans the room quickly for his boxers. “We’re in my room,” Saeran yells, and Yoosung can hear the mild panic in his voice. “Leave us alone!”

Yoosung locates his boxers and grabs them, pulling them on as quickly as he can and ignoring the ache in his ass. God it hurts.

“Why is the TV still on?” Seven yells back. Yoosung looks at Saeran in desperation. He has no idea how to cover this up.

“Oops,” Saeran responds. “Thought it’d turn itself off?”

“Ah, sweet brother, did you think I would allow such a setting on my TV?” Saeyoung laughs and Yoosung hears the clinking of spoons and bowls. Shit, they’d left those out too. Surprisingly, Seven doesn’t comment on it. “Well, have fun being recluses!”

Saeran sags in relief, hands dropping to rest on his thighs.

“Fuck,” he mutters.

“Oh my god,” Yoosung whispers, pressing his hands to his face and sitting back down on the bed. His heart feels like it’s racing so fast it might fall out his chest. They were _that_ close to getting caught naked on top of each other. _Fuck_. “Did that just happen?”

“Yeah,” Saeran says, exhaling heavily as Yoosung lowers his hands. “At least he didn’t come in sooner.” Saeran lazily walks back over to sit next to Yoosung, drawing a finger across his lips. “I don’t want to share those sounds with anyone else~”

Yoosung laughs a little hysterically. “God, can you imagine?” The thought of Seven coming home to _those_ noises… Yoosung shudders. His brain is still hazy from his orgasm, and mixed with the panic of almost getting caught he just feels exhausted.

Saeran chuckles. “I’d rather not imagine that,” he says, leaning forward to grab his jeans. “Don’t want to know what he’d have to say to me about that.” He slips his jeans on and stands to button them. Yoosung takes a moment to admire his body, not bothering to try and stop his brain straying back to the memory of how Saeran looked and felt while he was inside him.

“It was good though,” he says suddenly, and then he feels warmth spread across his face. “More than good.”

“Yeah?” Saeran grins and moves to stand in front of Yoosung. He cocks his head to the side and his eyes roam over his body, making Yoosung shiver. “It was fucking amazing, I think,” he says, grasping Yoosung’s chin between a finger and his thumb and pulling it up just enough for him to lean down and kiss him. “You’re so hot when I’m inside you,” he murmurs against Yoosung’s lips. “The way you look, the way you sound, the way you feel… god.”

Yoosung lets out a quiet whimper and leans in to press their lips together properly once more. The way Saeran’s speaking is making his body feel hot all over again. Saeran’s hand slides to cup his cheek before pulling back and licking his lips. Yoosung subconsciously mirrors his action. “Do you want something to drink? I’m gonna go grab some water.”

“Yeah… yeah, some water sounds good.” Yoosung reaches down to grab his jeans and pull them on as Saeran picks up their shirts. When he stands, he feels a jolt of pain shoot through him. “Ow!” he squeaks in surprise.

“Ow? Are you alright?” Saeran asks, brows dipping with concern.

“Uh… yeah,” Yoosung says in embarrassment, shifting his weight and stretching to try and make himself more comfortable. “Just… uh… aching a little bit.”

“Oh. Uh… is it a side effect of the…?” Saeran motions between them and tosses Yoosung his shirt. Yoosung catches it.

“Yeah,” he says, pulling it over his head. “Feels kinda weird.”

“Sorry,” he says with an apologetic smile as he steps over to the door and opens it. Yoosung smiles and walks over to the door, doing his best to ignore the ache.

“You don’t have to apologise. It’s okay.” He frowns a little. “Am I walking weird?”

“Um, I think you might be waddling a bit?” Saeran answers, running a hand through his hair anxiously as he glances at Seven’s workroom. Yoosung attempts to adjust his position a little.

“Okay, I can… it’s fine. He won’t notice. I can just say I hurt my ankle or something if he does.”

Saeran snorts at that. “He’d have to come out his room first. He stays in there most of the time, thank god.” He leads them out into the living room toward the kitchen, and Yoosung tries his best not to limp or… waddle like he apparently was. “Uh, might have to rewatch todays episode,” he says with a smirk. Yoosung grins at him.

“I don’t mind. Worth it.”

Saeran’s smirk morphs into a soft smile and he gently ruffles Yoosung’s hair. When they reach the kitchen, Saeran opens the fridge and tosses a bottle of water to Yoosung, which he thankfully manages to catch.

“Drink up, cutie.”

“Thanks.” He opens the bottle. Honestly, all Yoosung wants to do right now is cuddle, but he knows that’s not what they do. That thought leaves him feeling strangely empty. “Hey, I need a nickname for you! It’s not fair that you have two for me.” Saeran laughs.

“Asshole would probably work,” he teases, opening his own bottle and taking a drink. “No idea what to suggest for the other one.”

“Grumpy is a good bet,” comes a voice from the doorway, and Yoosung jumps in surprise. Saeran just rolls his eyes and groans.

“Ever stop to think maybe I’m just grumpy around _you?_ ” he grumbles at Seven, who’s currently leaning against the doorframe giving both of them a blank look that Yoosung can’t read.

“Oh, hey!” Yoosung says, voice a little higher than usual.

“Hi.”

“But, uhm… those weren’t the kind of nicknames I was talking about.” Wait, does Seven know Saeran calls him puppy and cutie? If he doesn’t, Yoosung doesn’t really want him to find out. They’ve already had a _way_ too close call today.

“Mmhm.” Seven looks at Yoosung, raising his eyebrows but face remaining expressionless. “Then what sort of nicknames did you mean?”

“That’s none of your business,” Saeran cuts in, scowling.

“I think it is, Saeran.” Seven’s eyes slide over to his twin. “What’s going on between you two?

Yoosung freezes, but luckily Saeran answers, sounding unbothered.

“Friendship,” he answers coldly. Yoosung looks at Seven and smiles as brightly as he can.

“Yeah! I’m showing Saeran Doctor What and he’s teaching me to draw. Oh, and there’s this,” he says, poking at his piercing sheepishly. Why is Seven acting so weird? There’s no way he can possibly know what’s going on. Seven folds his arms.

“Friendship,” he repeats. He doesn’t sound convinced.

“Yeah…” Yoosung says uncertainly, glancing over at Saeran and then back at Seven. “We’re allowed to be friends, right? What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing’s wrong with being friends,” Seven says, narrowing his eyes. “But friends don’t normally make out on the couch, do they?”

Yoosung feels his stomach drop and his blood run cold.

“They can if they want to,” Saeran retorts before Yoosung has a chance to react. “From what I understand, friends can do pretty much whatever they want.”

“How do you know that?!” Yoosung shoots at him in panic as his water bottle slips through his grip. He quickly picks it up before too much spills. No no no Seven isn’t supposed to know about this! _No one’s_ supposed to know about this!

“Friends don’t make out like that, Saeran. And, Yoosung, there are security cameras all over the bunker.”

“Why were you spying on us?!” he shrieks. All over the bunker?! Are they in Saeran’s room too?

Seven laughs humourlessly. “I come home to the TV still running and two bowls of melted ice cream and you _don’t_ think I’d wonder what on earth could‘ve been so important to distract my brother from eating the only thing he likes in the world? My first thought was that maybe he had an episode, and I just wanted to make sure you come out of it okay. God, I was wrong.”

“You know, you could’ve _asked_ us like a normal person,” Saeran grumbles. Yoosung folds his arms to hide his panic.

“Yeah. And it’s not any of your business what we do, anyway.” His voice is shaky. Seven just looks at him pointedly. Has he ruined this already? He’s only just figured out his real feelings, but now it looks like they could lose whatever it is that they have. What if Seven stops him from seeing Saeran?

“Yoosung, you can’t just…” Seven sighs and shakes his head. “So, what are you really? Are you a couple? I can’t imagine Yoosung doing that with just anyone.”

“No,” Saeran says firmly. “We’re just friends.”

“Friends don’t do what you guys did,” Seven presses. Yoosung feels like he can’t breathe. Everything’s falling apart. And from the way Seven said that, it sounds like… no. He _can’t_ know they just had sex. That’s impossible.

“Some do,” Saeran insists. “There’s such a thing as doing stuff with no strings attached. No feelings, yeah?”

“I still can’t imagine Yoosung agreeing to something like that.” Seven looks between the two of them and suddenly he slumps, running a hand through his hair in a way that’s so much like Saeran it makes Yoosung cough in surprise. “It looked like you were… almost like you were _seducing_ him, Saeran. Getting down on your knees before him like that…”

There’s a long silence where Yoosung waits for Saeran to respond. To deny it. They both know that’s not what happened.

“Fuck,” Saeran whispers instead, leaning heavily against the counter.

“What?!” Yoosung looks at Saeran and then back to Seven in panic. “No! That’s not what he was doing! I was… I was upset and he was making me feel better. Like a good _friend_ ,” he says, emphasising the word ‘friend’. He can’t let Seven ruin this. Not now. “And I did agree to this! Why is that so hard to believe? I’m not some stupid, innocent kid, Seven. I’m an _adult._ ”

Seven glances between the two of them in silence for a moment, and Yoosung almost thinks he’s going to drop it. That he’s going to let him off the hook.

But then…

“Is that why you’re walking with a limp?”

Yoosung feels his stomach drop even further, crashing right through the ground and out the other side of the world.

“W-what?” he splutters.

“And that’s enough of that,” Saeran growls, slamming the bottle down and grabbing Yoosung’s arm. “Come on, Yoosung, let’s go.”

Seven doesn’t make a move to stop them, just sighing and shaking his head.

“Yoosung… did it ever occur to you that Saeran’s not in the best place right now? That his judgement might be impaired while he’s recovering?”

Yoosung feels Saeran freeze.

“Don’t go there,” he says, voice quiet but dangerous. “This was my idea. Don’t make it sound like I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“You’re vulnerable right now, Saeran,” Seven replies sadly. “I know it’s not his intent, but I worry that Yoosung’s taking advantage of you.”

“Me?!” Yoosung squeaks. “No! I would never do that! This is… we _both_ agreed on this… right, Saeran?” He turns to him. Why is Seven trying to plant doubt in both their heads? Why can’t he just mind his own business? First Saeran’s seducing him, now Yoosung’s taking advantage of him. None of that even makes sense!

“Right,” Saeran says. “And I’m fully capable of making my own decisions.”

“Are you?” Seven doesn’t look convinced. “If you’re not a couple, then you guys are, what, friends with benefits? Is that really a good thing for you right now?” He moves towards them. “You’re supposed to be learning to trust people, to let them in and that’s the opposite.

Yoosung can feel Saeran shaking, and he steps closer. He’s not sure if touching him would calm him down right now, but he wants Saeran to know he’s here if he needs him.

“He _is_ learning to trust people. That’s why we’re _friends_.” Yoosung says. Seven sighs and is about to open his mouth to retort, but Yoosung interrupts him. “And I know friends don’t usually do this, but _we_ do. Believe it or not, I actually care about him. As a friend.” He adds on the last part hurriedly.

“But what happens when one of you develops feelings?” Seven asks quietly. “Who’s going to get hurt? Yoosung, you’re always talking about wanting a girlfriend. What happens when you do and this stops? Will you guys be able to have a normal friendship, or will that be the end of it? Will you leave him?”

Yoosung feels Saeran’s eyes turn to look at him, and he feels his mouth drop open in shock that Seven would even _say_ that.

“I would never leave him,” Yoosung says firmly. “Not that it’s any of your business, anyway!”

“But how do you _know_ that, Yoosung? How do you know you’re not going to end up hurting him?” Seven says, stepping closer. He sounds desperate now, and Yoosung knows he’s just being protective but he can’t stop himself from panicking.

“Because I won’t! I would never do that!”

“But what if you do? What then?”

“I won’t!” Yoosung’s yelling now. “Never! I don’t even want a girlfriend anymore!”

Seven narrows his eyes. “Why?”

“Because I love him, okay?!” Yoosung shouts hysterically. As soon as the words escape, he slaps his hand over his mouth in shock.

It feels as though time has frozen. Saeyoung’s staring at him with an odd, unreadable expression, and Saeran’s looking at his twin. Fuck. No. He hadn’t meant to say that. Why can’t he keep his stupid mouth shut for once in his life? They only came out here to get water. How did things go so wrong so fast?

“Saeran…” he whispers from behind his hand. “I didn’t… I’m s-sorry.” He has no idea what he can say to fix this now. Saeran drags his eyes over to look at him and their eyes lock for a moment.

Then, without a word, Saeran turns and leaves the kitchen and goes to his room.

“Saeran!” Yoosung yells, on the verge of tears as he follows after him. The door slams in his face and he presses his hands against it. “Saeran, please! I d-didn’t mean to say that. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!”

There’s no response, and Yoosung suddenly feels a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey,” Seven says softly, hesitantly. “Sorry. I… didn’t mean for it to get out of hand like that. But I have to protect him, you know? Give him time.”

Yoosung turns around, back against the door as he clutches his hair. If Seven hadn’t confronted them like that, none of this would be happening right now. Yoosung would be back in Saeran’s room, or they’d be sitting on the couch, or just… it doesn’t even _matter_ where they’d be, because the point is that he’d be with Saeran. But Seven ruined it.

“Everything was fine. Everything was _perfect_ ,” Yoosung says hoarsely, looking up at Seven. His tears are falling now and he jabs Seven harshly in the chest. “But _you_ ruined it. Don’t pretend you care about how I feel right now. You just want to be in control of Saeran’s entire _life._ ” He pushes him roughly out the way and storms past him to the door. “Let me out.”

“Yoosung…” Seven calls, and his voice sounds so sad Yoosung wants to punch him. He hears him sigh as he types in the code for the door and Yoosung drags it open as soon as he hears the click. “I really am sorry,” he whispers.

“No, you’re not,” Yoosung sobs, running out the door as fast as he can. He needs to get out of here.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saeran copes with how he feels... poorly.

_ “Because I love him, okay!?” _

It’s an echo in the cavern of his mind, bouncing from wall to wall, never stopping. A broken record playing on repeat, the same five words. Over. And over. Again. Always there. Always calling for attention. Always reminding him of things he both wants to forget and remember forever. Soft blond hair. Galaxy purple eyes. A pretty mouth that laughs and sings and jokes, but also moans and begs and whimpers. His name, so reverently spoken in moments when passion is what drives them. His name, spoken without a hint of judgment or fear but instead caring and excitement. Love. Love sounds like that. Love sounds like teasing jibes and stupid nicknames. It sounds like sighs and whines and cheers and giggles. Like the tinkling of twinkling stars that light up a face so innocent and puppy-like in a moment of happiness. Like the rushing of a river when tears slide down pale cheeks that should never collect salt. 

Love.

...

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Love is shit.

Despite the fact that it’s been a little over two weeks since Yoosung shouted those words at his brother, Saeran still can’t get them out of his head. It’s at moments like these that he wishes the elixir of salvation was still accessible to him because he’d be downing it like a man drowning, desperately drinking it like some sort of potion that will allow him to forget. Forget those words, forget that face. Forget the argument and the hurt on his brother’s face when he heard that, forget the panic and despair on Yoosung’s once he realized what he’d said. Forget the sex and the beautiful way he’d watched his puppy come apart beneath him, writhing in pleasure because of  _ him.  _

Forget the way it had made him feel to see the raw emotion flashing across Yoosung’s face after.

He wants to forget it all.

Maybe he can if he changes something. Something about himself, something that shows he’s not who he was even those few weeks ago. But what? He could get another piercing… but that’s not big enough on its own. Puffing out a heavy breath to blow the hair out of his face, he rolls over onto his back, hand coming to rest on his bare chest. The towel tucked at his waist loosens enough that it’s barely covering anything anymore, but he’s in no rush to get dressed. First he needs a plan of action, a way to help himself move forward without becoming completely dependent on his therapist. Ignoring Yoosung doesn’t seem to be working; every few days there’s another pleading text or a vague Tript about it. 

Why couldn’t the kid listen when he’d told him no feelings?

…

No, no. This isn’t Yoosung’s fault. It’s his own. 

He’s watched him long enough to know it’s an impossible thing to ask him to be just friends with benefits. Years of research on him, of hacking into his computer and of reading through the chat logs taught him how tied into his emotions Yoosung is. This was an inevitability, really, even if it’s only the confused mix of feelings caused by blurring the line between friendship and something more. 

There’s no way Yoosung could genuinely have romantic interest in him. Not with how broken Saeran is, or with his brother right there, ready and waiting to welcome the blond into his arms. 

How unfortunate it is, then, that Yoosung isn’t the only one to be feeling this way. And no matter how much he wants to pretend or ignore or erase, he knows his own are genuine.

That pisses him the fuck off.

Saeran grabs one of the pillows and hurls it at the wall in a moment of anger. It hits the hard surface with an unsatisfyingly soft thud before falling to the floor, slumped over and looking every bit as defeated as Saeran feels. He’s not supposed to feel this way, this ache in his chest at the prospect of losing Yoosung. It all makes sense now, in retrospect; his heart racing or skipping or feeling full to the brim with a warmth he’d never felt before. How drawn he’s felt to Yoosung for who knows how long now, the desire to kiss him gently and cuddle him or even the primal instinct to make him feel good. How long has Saeran harbored  _ feelings _ toward Yoosung without even realizing it? Does it go further than these few months? Could the seeds have been planted before then?

Does the length of time even matter? Nothing can come between them. A romantic relationship… it’s too frightening. Too risky, too dangerous. Opening himself up that much and placing his heart in someone else’s hands again? God, he can barely manage  _ friendship _ . Just the mere thought of giving someone even more of himself only to be betrayed again makes a shiver travel along his spine. No, he can’t do that. Eventually Yoosung will see how useless Saeran is, how much of a air-head and a bug he has been since birth and will move on, just like everyone else. 

Yanking on his hair, he sits up determinedly. He knows what he’s going to do.

-oOo-

Standing in the doorway to his room a week later, Saeran gazes upon the tank and its new occupant with satisfaction. Next to him Saeyoung leans against the wall, hands shoved into his jacket with an uneasy expression on his face. The talk and then eventual trip to get his new pet had been rather unenthusiastic on Saeyoung’s end; he’d spent every moment until they drove away with Saeran’s new pet trying to convince him to adopt a cat or even a dog instead (but mainly a cat). But Saeran’s never been interested in cats, and while he loves dogs, he’s not sure that he’s up to taking care of an animal that high maintenance yet. Someday, but not yet. He needs to be able to take care of himself first.

“So… come up with a name yet?” Saeyoung asks, still trying to keep up a cheerful front despite his obvious reluctance to house the new creature. 

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Saeran strides forward to stand directly in front of the tank and leans over, watching the corn snake slide around the wood inside until finding a position it likes. It had been found in a repossessed house, abandoned by its previous owners and then given to a pet store by the realtors. Once Saeran had heard the story he’d come to a decision right away, even though a snake wasn’t  _ necessarily _ what he had in mind.

Originally he’d been considering something like a chinchilla. Or maybe a rabbit. But the snake felt  _ right _ , especially with the background.

“Welcome home, little dude. No one will ever abandon you again,” he says softly, the corners of his lips twitching up. Now he’s not alone… and neither is the snake. But as for a name… hmm. He hadn’t exactly gotten that far yet. It’s a survivor, like him. That means it needs a strong name, one that will make everyone else know it doesn’t need them. But what?

He dismisses the first few names that cross his mind; they’re mostly after people he’d once considered strong and worthy but now know were actually quite the opposite. Which is fine, he’s not sure he would want to name it after any human anyway. Not directly, at least. 

“Might I suggest something elegant, like Sir Longsnake the 2nd or God Six?” Saeyoung puts forth, grinning and shrugging sheepishly when Saeran turns a glare on him. 

“Don’t be an idiot. I’m not Jumin and my snake isn’t your ‘girlfriend’.” Narrowing his eyes in thought, Saeran runs his fingernails over an eyebrow. “No, I’m thinking… something like… Superman.” That’s a good, strong name. Befitting of a snake whose survived being left behind.

“Seriously? Superman?” Raising his hands in supplication when another glare is directed at him, Saeyoung snickers. “Just saying, there’s a million cooler options you could’ve gone with if you were gonna go with naming it after him.”

What? Straightening up, Saeran gazes at his brother in confusion. “Named it after who?” 

The look that crosses Saeyoung’s face is a mixture of pity and amusement, furthering Saeran’s confusion. “Nevermind. Not my place.” Carding his hands through his hair, Saeyoung yawns softly. “I’m gonna go hit the sack, catch some zzz’s before I get hit with another assignment. Enjoy the snake. Don’t let him out of the room, though. Please.”

“You’ll wake up tonight with a new bedmate,” Saeran says casually, turning back to look at Superman. “Maybe it’ll cuddle you like the cat you always wanted.”

“Gods, no.” A full-bodied shudder travels down Saeyoung, causing Saeran to chuckle. “Just. Keep  _ Superman _ in here, please. Goodnight.” And with that he turns to leave, shutting the door behind him to leave Saeran alone with his new pet.

Crouching down in front of the snake, he spends a good few minutes just watching it do nothing. He’d always thought pet owners were just being stupid when they spoke about the bonds they’d form with their pets, but Saeran can already feel himself beginning to develop one with Superman. Likely it’s just because of their shared pasts, but nonetheless, it’s there. “Just you and me against the world, little buddy.” No one else. Not Saeyoung, not… Yoosung.

Just him and the snake, forever.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the long wait. hope you enjoy~

Love sucks.

When Yoosung used to imagine what falling in love would be like, it was filled with smiles and laughter and sickly sweet words shared in secret. It was always blue skies and rainbows and picnics in the sun. It was a fairy-tale filled with whispered I love yous and shared first times. He always knew that was a fantasy, but he never knew just how off the mark he was. That’s not the reality.

The reality is that it _hurts._ It stings and aches, and not in the good way. In the way that leaves him feeling both achingly empty and overwhelmingly full at the same time. His heart has found what it wants, and the fact it can’t have it has caused it to rip itself apart.

He had been ready to keep it a secret. Something he could hold close to himself without Saeran figuring it out. But Yoosung can’t keep a secret to save his life. He should have known that.

He shouldn’t have fallen for him.

But by the time he’d even realised, it had been too late. He was already head over heels with no turning back.

Was it wrong to have sex with Saeran after figuring it out? It had been… incredible. It had felt like more than just fucking. It had felt _real._ Now Saeran has a part of him he’ll never be able to give to anyone else, and to think that Saeran willingly gave him that part of him too is… it _can’t_ just be one sided love, right? It hadn’t felt that way. When Yoosung thinks back to the blissful moment where they both came undone, it puts butterflies and bricks in his stomach. The way Saeran had looked at him… that can’t be fake. The things he listed that he liked about him can’t have been a lie. If they were, Yoosung doesn’t know what he’ll do with himself.

But what Seven said about Yoosung taking advantage of him is stuck in his head. _Did_ he take advantage of him? He _knew_ he was in love with him. He knew exactly what he was doing. At the time he’d justified it by saying if Saeran won’t give him love, he’ll take what he can get, but is that wrong? That’s not what love is, is it?

He’s done his research and he’s found a term he thinks suits him. Bisexual. He’s found people who say it’s morally wrong and people who say that love is love no matter the gender. It’s difficult to know which side is right. Is he a bad person for being in love with someone who just so happens to be a boy? Is he dirty and corrupt? He’s found things saying there’s nothing wrong with being in love with someone of the same gender as long as you don’t act on it. It says that love isn’t supposed to be that way, but it can’t be stopped, so all you can do is stay away. In short it says that if he _really_ loved Saeran, he would let him go.

Yoosung’s not good at letting go.

His research is confusing. Some sources tell him bisexuality is a myth made up by promiscuous people, but Yoosung doesn’t feel like that fits him. There are some sources saying it’s absolutely real and valid. He doesn’t know what to think.

He’s pretty sure he knows his feelings better than some random people on the internet, and his heart is telling him that, yes, he loves Saeran. Whether or not he’s bisexual is irrelevant. He’s had crushes before, but never like this.

It strikes him more than once that this would be so much easier to figure out if Saeran were here with him. He can picture him in his head.

_“Is being bisexual wrong?”_ Yoosung would ask.

_“Don’t be stupid.”_ Saeran would scoff and roll his eyes. _“How can it be wrong?”_

_“Lots of people think it is.”_

_“People are stupid. Don’t listen to them.”_

_“But isn’t it gross? Am I a bad person?”_

_“Puppy.”_ Saeran would hold his face in his hands and look him straight in the eye. _“You might be a lot of things, but a bad person isn’t one of them. If anything, being straight is gross.”_

Yoosung would giggle.

Saeran would lean in and gently press their lips together.

…

…

…

…

…

But Saeran’s not here.

The harsh reality of it hits him like a bus. Saeran’s not here with him. He doesn’t love Yoosung. He was just fooling around. Just an easy fuck.

But even just picturing Saeran’s reactions in his head is helping comfort him. He picks up his phone and hits call on more than one occasion, and every time it rings out which sends an arrow straight through his chest. He’s finding out things he never wanted to know, like the fact Saeran’s phone rings exactly six times before cutting to voicemail. The reality is that there’s nothing close to a relationship between them, and if there ever was, then there definitely isn’t now. The way Saeran had looked at him after his accidental confession will be burned in his memory forever. The way he’d turned and left without a word keeps replaying over and over in his head. The fact Yoosung’s called so many times he hears those six rings resonating inside him all the time, no matter where he is or what he’s doing.

Yoosung really is a masochist. It seems like he can’t stop himself from coming up with new ways to shatter his heart.

But what they had felt special. And Yoosung _can’t_ let that go. He wants to try, even if it just means he’ll end up shattering his heart all over again.

It’s only been three weeks since he last saw Saeran, which isn’t really that long in the grand scheme of things, but Yoosung feels so achingly empty he thinks his body might collapse in on itself. He misses him. God, he’s never missed someone more. He’s heard the phrase “distance makes the heart grow fonder” but he’d hoped against hope that wasn’t true. In most cases his crushes have faded if he hadn’t been around them for a few weeks, sometimes even days. So why does this still hurt so much? Why does it hurt more _now_ than when it had first happened? It’s like the pain is piling on day after day, and just when he thinks it can’t get any worse, something new comes crashing down on him and knocks him further and further into this seemingly bottomless pit.

He’s not sure he’ll ever be able to climb back up.

He’s definitely not as composed as he’s making himself out to be to anyone who asks. He’s had Zen call him a few times, and even a text from Jaehee when she was worried he hadn’t been in the chatroom for a while, and he told them both he’s okay. He _has_ to say he’s okay, because as far as they know nothing bad has happened. He’s drowning himself in LOLOL day in and day out, staying up so late he’s just barely able to stay awake, eventually dropping heavily into his bed at anything between 5 and 8am. But even when he plays to utter exhaustion, that doesn’t stop him from crying once his head hits the pillow. It doesn’t stop the insomnia, or the loss of appetite, or the crushing loneliness. He’s been going to classes to keep up appearances, but even when he’s there it doesn’t feel like he’s truly _there_. And he hates that the lectures give his mind time to wander, give his fingers free reign over his phone keyboard, texting Saeran in a desperate attempt to make contact and constantly scrolling through his Tripter profile. He’s clinging pitifully to any sign of him he can find.

It’s the twins’ birthday soon, and Yoosung’s not even sure if he’s still invited to the party. He hasn’t fixed things with Seven yet. Well, he’s going anyway. He needs to at least apologise to Seven, if nothing else, and this might be his one chance to make things up to Saeran. It might be the only time Saeran will actually stand to be in the same room as him, so he needs to make the most of it, even if Saeran ignores him. He needs to get him a present. Something thoughtful, that only _he_ could think of. He wishes he had more money to spend, but then again he doesn’t want to come off as weird if Saeran really does want nothing to do with him. Something simple, but something thoughtful too…

The party’s in a week. Maybe he should try calling him first, just to check that… well, he’s not sure what he’s checking. Honestly he’s just desperate to hear his voice.

He selects Saeran’s contact and presses call.

He’s not surprised when he’s sent to voicemail after six rings, but it hurts anyway.

Over the next few days Yoosung prepares himself for the party and attempts to call Saeran a few more times. Every time it goes to voicemail, his heart feels like it drops even lower in his stomach. He’s not sure it can get any lower anymore. Every ignored text, every missed call… it makes it all hurt even more. He’s sent a few vague tripts that Yoosung thinks are about him telling him to stay away, but he _can’t._ He can’t just sit here doing nothing.

So he has a plan. He has a birthday gift for Saeran which will be a conversation starter no matter whether Saeran likes it or not. Even if he has to rebuild their friendship right from the ground, he’s not going to give up.

He loves Saeran. And even though love sucks, he’s not letting him go.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it took me so long to write this!!! It's been one crazy summer.

The gentle patter of water as it hits the tiled wall is soothing, nearly enough to distract Saeran from the multitudes of unwelcome thoughts and emotions currently roaming free through his exhausted mind. Every moment of his morning has been spent trying to ignore them, whether through half-hearted attempts to throw himself into art or by letting Superman slither around his floor freely as he watches, curious about what dictates the snake’s movements. Breakfast was an interesting experiment as he slowly followed the steps to make something he recalled having had a few times at Mint Eye, only to find out that his talent actually does not lie in the culinary field. Saeyoung still ate the burnt morsels, chattering away in his normal, carefree manner about how awesome the party would be and just how excited he was to get to spend it with Saeran.

But no matter how busy he keeps himself, the same feelings continue to paw at him, scratching on the door of his consciousness like a cat locked out of a bedroom. Whispers he’s been tuning out for the past few weeks, trying desperately to locate the switch he used to have that would turn off his emotions. Murmurs from the innermost vault of his heart, a place he never thought he’d have access to again, trying to crest the rough oceans of his psyche. 

It’s always the same. Everything draws him back to blond hair, a gentle voice and soft, shy touches. Bright eyes, sparkling with all the light of a sky full of stars. Hands petting through his hair and arms surrounding him when he’s holding on by a thread, patiently pulling him back to earth. 

Soap trickles down his back as he scrubs his fingers through his hair viciously, nails raking over the scalp in a vain attempt to override the memories. He’s entirely undeserving of such treatment, of being cared for so tenderly. His jaw clenches, lips pulled tight into a sneer, every thought passing through his mind berating himself for ever letting someone believe he was worthy of their kindness. Men like him shouldn’t exist in this world. No, if it were up to him, he’d have been dead long ago but apparently his life is not in his own hands; rather, his brother’s. His doctor’s, his psychiatrist’s. They all naively believe that there’s hope for him, that maybe inside this rotten, broken shell a single piece of a decent person remains. A spark that simply needs some tinder to ignite, and that if they provide that and then fan it via “love” and “support”, it’ll grow into an all-consuming fire that burns him out and reshapes him into a new, much better human. Like a god-damned phoenix.

They’re foolish.

There’s nothing left inside him other than his festing heart and rotted soul. Nothing good remains;  _ she _ made sure of that. In teaching him how to embrace his devil, she planted a seed that eventually molded. An infection that quickly went septic, racing through every part of him to spread and kill off anything of him that was left. The child Saeyoung knew, the person he once was… all gone. Eliminated in one fell swoop to make room for a programmable corpse. 

Without that programming, he’s simply an empty flesh vessel with memories. Memories of who he was, of what he’s done. The perfect image of a monster. 

It doesn’t matter what Yoosung wants or how he feels. It doesn’t matter what Saeran feels - if he’s even truly capable of feeling anything anymore. What matters is that he can’t - no, he  _ won’t _ be responsible for passing on his infection to someone like that. Yoosung Kim is a genuinely good man. He won’t let this darkness swallow him whole.

Red tints the water circling the drain, drawing his attention to the stinging of his head. Shit. Too far. Too much. He can’t do anything right.

Placing a hand against the wall and leaning into it, Saeran vows to himself to save Yoosung. To keep him at a distance, safe and uncontaminated. 

Even if it kills him in the process.

 

-oOo-

 

Every stroke is smooth, practiced. The black glides on effortlessly, a masterpiece in itself as it lines Saeran’s eyes perfectly. Setting the pencil down, he takes a finger and smudges it, not only creating his normal edgy look but going a little further to try to hide the bags under his eyes. While he’s convinced he’s doomed to perpetually sport them, they’re not normally  _ quite _ so dark. The broken, nightmare-ridden sleep that haunts him nightly has only worsened now that the solitary ray of sunshine in his life has burned out. It’s impossible to hide all of effects of that, but at least he can manage this, perhaps.

But the tattoo… he eyes it with a small amount of trepidation. Should he cover it up? Throw on an ace bandage and pretend it doesn’t exist? If only it didn’t stretch down the entirety of his upper arm. If it were shorter, a simple t-shirt sleeve would cover it. But no. No. Of course he had to be  _ extra _ , as if it would get him fucking brownie points of some stupid shit. Idiot.

A quiet knock on the door startles him, glancing over while capping the eye pencil. Saeyoung pops his head into the bathroom, face neutral except for his sparkling eyes. “Hey. Party’s about to start, but I wanted to give you this before anyone else gets here. You know, just in case you wanted to wear them or something.” The doorbell rings right as he sets a rectangular box on the seat of the toilet, unwrapped save a simple black ribbon. “Ah! The guests have arrived. Time to go play host.” Disappearing with a wink, the door shuts, leaving Saeran staring at the mysterious package curiously.

He’s a terrible brother. He didn’t even bother to try to get his twin something. Obviously it wouldn’t have been easy, with him not having his own money or transportation but really, those are just excuses. He’ll make it up to Saeyoung somehow.

The box is thin, maybe on an inch or two thick, but when he picks it up he finds it’s remarkably heavy. Setting it on the counter, he unwinds the ribbon and lifts off the top, the corners of his lips quirking up into a small smile as he surveys the contents. 

Three new shirts, all simple and dark. A beautiful, luscious green; a deep, rich red; a purple royal enough to be fit for a king. Plus a new pair of black skinny jeans, much closer to the type of style he prefers to wear. A new choker and leather jacket. And at the bottom, taped next to the receipt, a gift card to one of the clothing stores nearby. Finally, he’s going to be able to dictate his wardrobe again. This time with a clear head so he’s much less likely to end up in some strange mixture of sweatpants and a tracksuit. 

It really was obvious that he was on drugs back then.

The noise outside the bathroom begins to ramp up as multiple people arrive, Saeyoung greeting each of them loudly. Whipping off the old shirt and jeans he’d been wearing, he shimmies into the skinny jeans and slips on the red shirt. The sleeves are long enough that only the tiniest bit of the bottom of the tattoo peeks out; that makes that decision easy. Combing his hand through his hair, he affords himself one final look in the mirror before scooping up the box and old clothes under his arm to slip out and into his room, dropping them off on the bed. 

Deep breath. As much as he would rather lock his door and hide in here, he needs to at least make an effort to be around the RFA. Maybe he can do the bare minimum of socialization and sneak back in here for some respite later. Despite all of his tendencies to be an idiot, Saeyoung does seem to understand that Saeran requires his time alone in order to function. It’s unlikely he’ll be bothered as long as he makes an effort in the first place.

“Wish I could stay in here with you, buddy.” Saeran taps the aquarium sadly. Superman’s eyes flick to glance at him a moment before he returns to his original point of focus on the wall. Ah, well. May as well get it over with.

The way his nerves twist inside of him, one would think he’s about to face a room full of frightening people. But no, it’s just the RFA - a bunch of idiots he’s kept an eye on for years and now fell in with. Not necessarily by his own choice, but at this point, does that really matter? Stepping out and heading down the short hallway, he makes an entrance into the large living area, hands shoved in his pockets as he hunches over to try to be as unnoticeable as possible. There’s a lovely piece of wall near where Jaehee is squealing over Zen; uninhabited, partially obscured by the television. A fine piece of real estate that basically has his name written on it. He slinks over, nodding at Jumin when he notices his eyes on him, stomach going hot with shame. Does he blame him? For V’s… 

It doesn’t matter. Jumin has every right to hate Saeran if that’s what he wants. Saeran would deserve any and all vitriol flung at him by the CEO-in-line. Hell, if all he got was a tongue lashing, he’d be getting off far easier than he should. Despite his attempts to forget, that memory is always lurking just beneath the surface of his thoughts, waiting for the perfect moment to crest and remind him just how much of a piece of shit he really is. Yeah, so he’s supposed to be working on coming to terms with the excuse that he wasn’t himself when he held that gun and felt it recoil in his palm, that it wasn’t of his own volition that he pulled the trigger, causing the acrid smell of gunpowder to invade his nostrils. Excuses, excuses, people willing to write off what he did in hopes that there’s still something inside this empty husk worth saving, stupid people, naive people, idiots, idiots, all of them. Thinking there’s a chance a devil such as he could ever become-

The sound of the door alarm jolts him out of his thoughts and he watches Saeyoung burst into incredulous laughter, leaving an annoyed looking Jaehee behind as he dashes over to the pad to input the code. “Leave it to Yoosung to somehow trigger her,” he cackles as he disappears to open the door. 

And here’s the real reason Saeran wanted to stay in his room all day. He’d rather do literally  _ anything _ else than come face-to-face with Yoosung at this point. Drop him into a pit of vipers, please. It would hurt less than having to put on a face and say the necessary things to push him away. What does Saeyoung call him teasingly at times? A tsundere? Yeah, that’s it. That’s what he needs to be. Cold and uncaring, empty and numb. Don’t let Yoosung get to him, don’t let him in, don’t let him have any hope. Hope would be cruel. 

This is for the best.

A fact he struggles to keep at the forefront of his mind when he sees Yoosung enter the room, escorted by his brother. For a moment there’s a surge of jealousy at the familiar way Saeyoung’s arm is draped over those shoulders, but he quickly boxes it up and shoves it away to deal with later - maybe. Or it could just fester, maybe rot away on its own. If he’s lucky. 

He shuffles a little closer to Jaehee and Zen, hoping to manage to look busy but he can see out of the corner of his eyes the moment Yoosung spots him. He straightens his shoulders and walks over to the group, giving his two friends a wide berth only to stop in front of Saeran. It’s hard to ignore the way his heart flutters, knowing that Yoosung is right there -  _ right there _ \- but he refuses to acknowledge him. It’s better this way. It’s better this way. It’s… better this way.

It repeats through his mind like a mantra, four words he clings onto desperately as he struggles not to react to the shaky sigh or the way the man’s frame slumps. Has he lost weight? And the circles under those eyes… they’re so much darker than usual. The radiant light that usually emanates from him is absent, replaced by a strange melancholic aura Saeran isn’t entirely fond of. Is this. Is this his doing? 

_ It’s better this way. _

“Hi.”

Never has one word elicited such a split reaction in him, nearly tearing his heart in two as it jumps then sinks immediately. So he’s going to keep pushing this, huh. Not going to give up. God, why can’t he just  _ give up? _ Saeran doesn’t want to do this, doesn’t want to hurt him more but fuck, he isn’t giving him much of a choice, is he? “Hi,” he returns, his voice flat and devoid of any emotion. Flicking his eyes to meet Yoosung’s gaze, it takes all of his self-control to keep his face neutral. Yeah, the light has definitely gone out. There’s no life shining from those purple eyes, not anymore. They’re dull and lined in red, the skin around them puffy from far too many tears. Guilt stabs him like a hot knife in the stomach, cauterizing the wound only to rip it back open as it twists to the side. This is his fault. Saeran’s. He’s the one who managed to snuff out the stars that shone in Yoosung, and god it hurts. It hurts so much, far more than any pain he’s felt before. 

_ It’s better this way. _

All it does is cement his belief that Yoosung deserves better. Better than this, better than him. He could never be what he wants, what he needs. No. This is only a temporary thing; eventually, the fires will be lit once more and Yoosung will once again fill the room with starlight.

“Um… happy birthday.” Yoosung offers him an uncertain smile. It’s obvious he did his best to look nice tonight. Was that out of politeness or was he hoping to impress him? “I’m glad I get to see you again.” 

The room spins for a moment before Saeran remembers to breathe. This is so much harder than he could’ve ever predicted. Yoosung’s here, right in front of him, he could reach out and tug him into his arms… but no. He can’t. He can’t do that. Instead he raises an eyebrow, thankful that his natural expression is one of being unimpressed. “Thanks.”

He can tell the lack of emotion hits home by the way Yoosung’s breathing stutters. An indecipherable look flits across his face, part of his lip disappearing between his teeth as he gears up for something. “I thought I’d get you something,” he finally says quietly, holding out a gift bag. It’s bright yellow, covered in balloons and an eyesore that only Yoosung could give without it being absolutely ridiculous. 

Still, Saeran makes no movement to take it. A present. Maybe he should’ve thought about the likelihood of this occurring, but it never crossed his mind. Birthdays were never important to him, and gifts were for people who weren’t cursed from birth. And yet, this is the second one for him today. His brother he could understand. But Yoosung? “Why? I’ve been ignoring you.”

“Yeah, I know. I just… it’s your birthday!” A note of enthusiasm manages to creep in for a second before falling flat once more. Yoosung holds the bag out further, nearly touching Saeran’s chest. “I hope you like it.”

Saeran narrows his eyes, scrutinizing Yoosung’s face. He’s not about to let him refuse this, is he? Damn it. Wrinkling his nose, Saeran stiffy reaches out and jerks the bag out of Yoosung’s hands, ignoring the shock that shoots through him when their fingers brush. This is stupid, so stupid. Why did he get him a present? After everything that happened, why? With a sigh, he peeks inside, not quite sure what to expect.

“...gummy snakes?” Well. He certainly didn’t expect  _ that. _

“Yeah!” Some of the brightness returns to Yoosung’s voice and when Saeran looks up, he sees the smallest of smiles directed at him. “Just… I know you like sweet things and you said you wanted a snake, right?”

That’s… really fucking cute. Holy shit. Saeran struggles to keep his face passive, his lips twitching minutely as he fights off the urge to laugh and tease Yoosung about being so damned cute. God, he’s so far out of his comfort zone with this, he has no idea how he’s even going to survive. No one has ever elicited such emotions in him, no one has ever made him want to give in like this. This is gonna be so much harder than he thought. He looks down at the candy in the bag. “You’re a little late, though,” he says unthinkingly, scratching his chin. “I already have a snake.”

“You do!? Really?”

...fuck. Where’s a backspace option when it’s needed? Conversation is a hell of a lot more difficult than hacking. “...yeah.” Gaze dropping to his feet, Saeran chews on the inside of his cheek as a strange heaviness settles between them. It’s awkward and slightly painful, and god, there’s no easy way out of this, is there? With a quiet groan, he relents and offers, “do you wanna see him?”

It’s no surprise that Yoosung’s answer is an immediate and bordering on desperate “yes!” The last place Saeran wants this man to be tonight is in his bedroom, yet here he is, turning stiffly to lead him exactly there. It’s been a long while - though not nearly long enough to wash away all of the memories that flood back as they approach - since they’ve walked this path together. One hand grasps the cool metal knob as he braces himself, finally exhaling heavily and pushing forward to open the door. It’s almost a visceral feeling as he walks inside and flicks on the light, every part of his body trying to recoil from the situation moving forward. But once Yoosung crosses from hallway into bedroom it’s too late to back out, the weak barrier he’d placed mentally to keep both Saeyoung and the cursed emotions out flickers once, twice, then vanishes entirely. 

It’s hard to breathe under the weight of everything he’s tried to put off for so long.

“Meet Superman,” he says, relieved when his voice comes out more quiet than choked. The last thing he needs is Yoosung’s borderline psychic ability to sense when he feels like shit to kick in right now. Thankfully the distraction seems to catch, giving him a chance to take a few steps back as Yoosung moves forward. At least the fact that the door is open helps everything feel less confining. The background chatter of the party and occasional loud, obnoxious laugh of his brother filters into the room unhindered and helps loosen the knot in his chest. Yoosung asks a few questions about Superman: how old is he, when did he get him, pretty basic information Saeran’s able to provide with as little thought as possible. Something he’s incredibly thankful for.

Eventually the conversation tapers off, leaving a silence so thick and heavy that it feels like he’s being pressed into the floor. The concrete is suddenly a trap, quicksand pulling him in if he doesn’t get out of here. It’s too much to see this, to have Yoosung in his room so close to his bed. His bed, where they… 

An unbidden memory flashes before him and it’s like he’s reliving a few seconds of that day, slowed down and slightly blurred around the edges. But he can see Yoosung’s face contorted in pure bliss crystal clear, his eyes squeezed shut and mouth hanging open as the most beautiful noises Saeran’s ever heard poured out of him. Sweat-slicked bangs cling to a flushed face, barrettes slipping out of place a bit more with every thrust. He’d known something had felt different that day, that something had shifted between them. It was obvious the instant Yoosung walked through the bunker door and Saeran’s grumpy mood had lifted, leaving concern for his friend left. But he’d ignored it because emotions are as legible as egyptian to him, had continued to ignore it even when his heart had skipped a few beats when Yoosung asked for sex. 

The first time for both of them, a moment Saeran stole from Yoosung that he can never give back. His virginity, thrown away to someone who shouldn’t even be alive. An act that meant far more to one of them than it should have. The entire thing had been laden with emotions, nearly palpable as they flitted through the air around them, weaving in and out of both men. 

An act that had been borne out of love for one of them. The other…? Saeran’s not sure. It wasn’t  _ just _ lust, not this time. There was definitely something else floating around in him, but. To put a name to it means he’d have to acknowledge it and face it directly. He doesn’t want to do that.

But god, right now he’d give almost anything to pull Yoosung into his arms and apologize repeatedly, to beg him for forgiveness for the way he’s been treating him but he. He can’t. He can’t be what Yoosung wants him to be. He can’t be what Yoosung needs. Yoosung deserves so much better. A man like him, one made from the stars themselves, deserves nothing less than someone equally as bright.

Saeran is just a black hole. If he lets Yoosung in he’ll do nothing but drain him of all that twinkling starlight. 

“Let’s get back to the party,” he says quietly, hands sliding into his pockets. He needs to get out of this room before his final defenses are taken out. 

The way Yoosung’s hands begin to fidget catch his attention. “I… do… don’t you…” Of course he’s not going to let him off that easily. Yoosung clears his throat and takes a step forward. “Do you want to talk?” It’s a whisper, fragile, a thin string of hope that reaches out from one heart to the other. Saeran can feel it wrap around his own and attempt to reel him in. There’s nothing he wants more in the world right now than to follow the insistent tugging. 

Nothing except to protect Yoosung from his filth.

“What is there to talk about?” Saeran adopts a bit of the man he used to be, making his words cold and sharp. If Saeran can’t do this, maybe he can slip on an Unknown mask and stumble his way through it that way. “I can’t be what you’re looking for.”

Yoosung swallows, his throat clicking audibly in the quiet room. “B-but how do you know what I’m looking for?”

“Feelings are dangerous, Yoosung. I’m not interested in fucking around with them.”  _ Be Unknown. Be uncaring, cold, a little unhinged. _ He turns away from the face that threatens to be his undoing and takes a deep breath.  _ Shove those emotions back down into the void where they belong. _ “If I had known you’d fall for me like a fucking idiot, I never would’ve started this.” 

“No, I can forget about them. We can carry on like b-before, or we can just be normal friends this time. I don’t care. I just want  _ something _ , Saeran. Please.” 

It hurts to hear the normally bright voice pleading with him like this. The way it cracks when Yoosung says ‘please’... it’s like he can feel that pain starting to seep into his own veins. “No.” One single word takes more effort than anything up to this point, Saeran’s hands fisting in his pockets and his eyes squeezed shut as though he can block out the regret and guilt laying siege to him. 

“Why?” The pitch of Yoosung’s voice goes higher, desperation lacing every shaky word. “Saeran, we… we get on so well, even when we’re not doing all that stuff. I want to be friends with you. I trust you.”

Instantly all the guilt, regret, sadness… everything Saeran feels morphs into pure, unadulterated rage. Did he hear that right? “Fucking hell…” he snarls, lurching forward to slam the door shut with such intensity that the doors on his closet shudder. Three words have never angered him so deeply before, every inch of it shown on his face as he whips around to glare at Yoosung. “ _ Don’t trust me. _ That’s the single worst thing you could do outside of falling in love with me.” It’s no longer difficult to channel Unknown’s personality anymore, his body falling into old habits as the familiar emotion takes hold. “I’m a  _ dangerous _ man, Yoosung. What don’t you fucking get about that!?”

There’s no fear in the gaze that meets his own. Concern, yes, but one glance tells Saeran that Yoosung isn’t concerned about his own safety. Determination fixes in those eyes and he takes a step forward, brows drawn. “But I  _ do _ trust you! Why else would I have slept with you?” The air crackles between them, every breath Saeran draws in through flared nostrils feeling like it’s charged with electricity. “I w-want to be a friend to you. To  _ help _ you. Please let me. Being around you makes me happy.” There’s a warmth in Yoosung’s words that tries to seep in through the cracks of Saeran’s anger, trying to lay down the roots to end this argument.

But he’s not going to give up so easily.

“And being around me will be your ruin.” Saeran storms forward, closing the distance between them until he’s nearly nose-to-nose with Yoosung. Every line on his face is sharp, his expression severe and his shoulders puffed up as he makes himself look as threatening as he can. “I am a  _ bad _ person. I will  _ always _ be a bad person. You, on the other hand,” he says, jabbing his finger into Yoosung’s chest hard enough that it probably hurts, “are the only  _ good _ person I’ve ever laid eyes on. I refuse to be the one to corrupt that, to take that away from you.” Retracting his finger, he folds his arms across his chest and takes a step back, scowling. 

Yoosung looks dumbfounded at his words, mouth gaping as he stares at Saeran for a few moments. “ _ That’s _ what this is about? You think you’re going to corrupt me?” The tone of pure disbelief rankles Saeran slightly and his lip curls as he looks down his nose at Yoosung. “Saeran, I’m not some pure, perfect angel. I’m a person. I’ve done bad things too. You’re not going to  _ corrupt _ me, especially if you don’t  _ want _ to.” There’s a pause, then Yoosung continues quietly, “if anything, cutting me out completely will corrupt me the most.”

That makes no sense. “How?” Saeran demands, leaning forward with narrowed eyes. “How the hell would cutting off the diseased limb corrupt the whole?”

“Heartbreak,” Yoosung answers firmly. “Do you know what I’ve been doing these past few weeks?” He doesn’t give Saeran a chance to even consider the options. “Nothing. I’ve been doing  _ nothing _ except crying and playing LOLOL. Do you think that’s good for me to do? It’s not. I know it’s not. But I can’t bring myself to do anything else because I  _ miss _ you, Saeran. There’s a hole in my life where you used to be.”

The image of Yoosung at his desk playing LOLOL, clothing wrinkled and dirty from days of being worn without changing, eyes red and puffy as he cries shakes Saeran to his core. Surely heartbreak isn’t  _ that _ bad, right? He moved on after his own, years before when Saeyoung had abandoned him.

Although… he did have some help with that…

“You’d… you’d get over me eventually.” It’s a weak argument and he knows it, but Yoosung’s cast the shadow of a doubt over his plan. Is what he’s doing right? Would it be better for Yoosung to remain around him, to risk infecting him with the darkness that dwells inside his heart or to push him away and run the chance that he’ll only get worse?

“I never would completely. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I lost you. Just… just let me be your friend again. Please,” Yoosung begs, and Saeran curses that heart that’s worn so visibly for him to see. “We can start again and pretend nothing ever happened between us if that’s what you want.”

What he wants. What Saeran wants… Does he even know what he wants? The anger drains out of him as quickly as it came, revealing a landscape barren except for everything he’s been trying to run from. They appear as darkness, shadows that rush across the ground and envelop him before he has a chance to prepare and  _ he can’t breathe, oh god, he’s dying. _

His hands fly to his throat and his mouth works silently for what feels like an eternity before he manages to choke out, “I need air.” Then he’s turning around, one hand clawing at his chest in a vain attempt to relieve the pressure quickly weighing on his lungs as he flings open the door and bolts down the hallway and toward the way outside. Everything around him is a blur, the voices turning into mumbles except for one that calls out his name in a panic. The edges of his vision are going dark; he needs to move fast if he doesn’t want to break down in front of the party. Fingers fly across the pad to input the code as soon as he reaches it, the sound of the door unlocking as loud as the crack from lightning. 

Every breath is a struggle but he manages to pry open the heavy door, staggering outside and collapsing onto the nearest patch of grass he can find.  _ Breathe, count, ground yourself… _ He runs his fingers shakily through the grass, focusing on the sharp way the blades drag across his skin, the slight dewiness sticking to them, the way they spring back up as soon as his hand passes over them. He can feel the earth under him, solid and unmoving. There’s a gentle breeze brushing through his hair, the front of it tickling his forehead. Everything is fine. He’s safe.

The click of the lock heralds another person’s arrival but he doesn’t bother to look, eyes fluttering shut as he focuses inward, trying to calm his breathing and his racing heartbeat. He hears Yoosung apologize, footsteps dragging across the pavement as he makes his way closer. No doubt he looks like quite a sight right now, hands feeling up the grass as he barely holds onto sanity. Yoosung must get the point that he’s not able to answer and sits down next to him with a quiet “oof” but says nothing more. 

Of course, things can’t remain silent long enough for him to fully manage to regain his presence of mind. Saeyoung bursts out of the bunker with a bang, footsteps loud and fast approaching. “Saeran!? Are you okay?”

As with Yoosung, Saeran doesn’t answer. Fabric scratches and then Saeyoung’s voice is closer. He must’ve crouched down. “Saeran?”

“Shhhh!” The harsh noise comes from next to him. “I think he’s grounding himself. My therapist mentioned it before. It’s a good way to recover from panic attacks…”

There’s just the sound of the three of them breathing for a moment. “Okay. I’ll… leave you alone. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help, okay?” 

Footsteps. The door to the bunker shuts. They’re alone again.

Time passes in a weird blur, moving both too quickly for Saeran to keep up but also creeping by agonizingly slow. Once he’s feeling more stable, he slits open his eyes to glance over at Yoosung. He’s sitting with his knees to his chest, arms wrapped loosely around his legs and staring at the sky with a peaceful expression. Despite feeling oddly disoriented, Saeran finds himself distracted by watching him, the night sky reflected against deep violet pools of emotion. Is the twinkling from the stars, or is it just Yoosung’s own inner light shining through? A light that, if he believes what Yoosung told him earlier, will dim massively if not go out entirely should he continue to attempt to shut him out. 

He feels so lost right now. What is the right thing to do?

Eventually Yoosung glances at him and starts, his cheeks darkening in what Saeran can only guess is a blush. A guilty smile crosses his face and he turns to face Saeran more directly. “Are you okay?” he whispers.

Saeran bites his cheek, redirecting his gaze to the sky so he doesn’t have to look at the worry consuming Yoosung’s expression. It feels like a loaded question. Is he ever okay? “I don’t know,” he finally answers truthfully. “I don’t… I can’t figure out what I feel. Or how I  _ should _ feel.” Lifting a finger, he traces out a pattern in the stars, connecting them to make a peony. “I don’t want to hurt you. If you stay in my life, it’s certain that’s what I’ll end up doing. But if I cut you out, I hurt you.” It’s a condundrum, a choice with no good decision. He feels stuck between a rock and a hard place with not even an inch to move. Groaning, he rubs his temples and frowns. “I don’t know what to do. I was so sure, but now…”

Silence falls once more, the wind causing the leaves of the trees nearby to rustle. Yoosung audibly takes one breath, then two. What’s he thinking? It takes a few more moments before he finally speaks. “If neither of those choices would hurt me, what would you choose?” 

“Do you really have to ask?” The question is out before Saeran even realizes what he’s saying, but there’s no denying the wounded tone or the way it feels like a hot knife twists in his gut that Yoosung doesn’t know the answer to that already. But then again… considering how he’s been treating him lately… of course he would doubt. 

Which means Saeran has to say it.

Saying it makes it real.

Uncomfortable.

He can’t hide anymore.

Taking a shaky breath, he trains his eyes on Yoosung’s face, takes in the undeniable hope there. “I’d keep you in my life.” The statement comes out in a rush, and Saeran’s heart suddenly feels less weighed down. It’s true. A life without Yoosung… it’s just darkness. Pure darkness. 

Terrible things hide wait for him in the darkness.

Yoosung inhales sharply, eyes widening. “Then do that. Be selfish for once. Do what makes  _ you _ happy.”

“I…” Saeran looks down at his lap, fingers scraping along the seam of his jeans. The sensation helps him think, helps him pull together the errant thoughts and feelings floating around and try to put them together in an order that makes sense. His mind doubts;  _ don’t trust him,  _ it whispers, almost like a devil on his shoulder.  _ He’s just saying that because of what he wants. He doesn’t give a damn about you. _

_ You know Yoosung. Would he really be so careless with you? _ His heart counters, taking up residence on the opposite shoulder.  _ In all the time you’ve known him, in the time you watched him on orders, did he ever once give you reason to doubt? _

It’s an age-old argument, not a new one to anyone and especially not Saeran. But this is the first time he can ever recall having hesitation about deeming someone untrustworthy. He said it himself earlier; Yoosung is a  _ good man. _ The only one he’s ever met. So.

Does he trust him?

…

Yes.

But…

“I don’t deserve happiness.” That is the one thing that rings truest above all of the rabble in his mind. “And you deserve someone not… not broken. In your life.”

“You’re not broken. You’re just hurt. And… and I don’t care what you think I deserve.” Yoosung scoots a little closer, leaning in slightly. The determination in his posture catches Saeran off-guard. “I want  _ you _ .”

“Yoosung…” Saeran’s voice is hoarse, eyes shimmering with unbidden tears. The amount of emotion flowing through him right now is… unreal. Has he ever felt so, so… filled to the brim before? Not for a long time. He’s supposed to be selfish and do what makes himself happy? Does he even know what that would be? Letting out a shuddering breath, he silences his thoughts and just listens. Lets his heart finally speak unhindered.

And then he reaches over to cup Yoosung’s chin, closing the distance between them to kiss him.


End file.
